


So Please Just Fall in Love with Me This Christmas

by emphasisonem



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Feels, Ficlet Collection, First Kiss, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, I will switch between pre-serum and post-serum Steve, M/M, Neighbors, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn with Feelings, Requests are welcome, Switching, There will probably be too many kisses under the mistletoe, dom/sub elements, winter holidays
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-03 16:29:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 42,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8720755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emphasisonem/pseuds/emphasisonem
Summary: Each year I ask for many different things
  
  But now I know what my heart wants you to bring
   -Michael Bublé    A collection of stories inspired by my favorite holiday season. Rated M because there will be a bit of smut mixed in here and there amongst the fluffy holiday goodness.





	1. Up On The Housetop

**Author's Note:**

> All right, kids, December 1 marks the first day of my little attempt at 25 holiday fics in 25 days. Christmas is my favorite holiday, and it's the winter holiday that I celebrate, so that'll be the main theme. I do have at least one Hanukkah fic planned, and I'm absolutely open to requests for any winter holiday :) In fact, I encourage requests. 25 is a lot of fics, you guys. 
> 
> Title and story summary from the song ["Cold December Night"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d7GepflO6PQ) by Michael Bublé which I _highly_ recommend listening to at least once a day from now until Christmas. If you're into Christmas.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you seriously telling me-” Steve bites out, small fists clenched by his sides, bright eyes flashing dangerously- “That you were up on the roof? _In this weather? Because you were decorating for Christmas?"_
> 
> **In which Steve's idiot neighbor falls off the roof, but it turns out to be a Christmas miracle of sorts.**

The first day of December dawns, a soft, bright white, and Steve knows before he’s rolled out of bed to pull back his curtains that it’s snowing. The small blond grins as he looks out at his neighborhood, blanketed in the gentle glow of the season’s first snow.

Steve adores the snow. Granted, he’s not a huge fan of being _out_ in the snow, since his slender frame doesn’t stand much of a chance against the cold no matter how bundled up he gets. But there’s nothing Steve loves more than wrapping himself up in his warmest clothes and blankets, fixing himself a mug of cocoa and reading or watching movies all day.

Steve walks back toward his bed, reaching for the clock radio on his bedside table and tuning it to the local news station. Steve listens intently to the school closings, hoping his school’s name will be read shortly. And as luck would have it, he’s got a snow day.

Steve hums “Let It Snow” to himself as he wanders into his bathroom, pulling a towel from the closet and getting the water running for a nice, hot shower. As he washes, he can hear the heavy _thunk, thunk, thunk_ of his upstairs neighbor’s work boots. Steve wonders idly what the attractive brunet is up to as he turns off the water.

Bucky’d moved into the apartment on the second floor of the converted Craftsman house that Steve’s called home for three years now in early October with a French Bulldog he’d introduced as Jaques, and Steve had not managed to keep a straight face.  

“Like Cousteau?” Steve had asked with a chuckle, and he’d been rewarded with an enthusiastic nod and a bubbly explanation that Bucky had been fascinated by the man and his undersea documentaries as a child. Naming his dog after Cousteau was as fitting a tribute as any, Bucky thought.

Steve had been struck immediately by the brunet’s wide smile and laughing gray eyes, as well as his seemingly boundless cheerfulness. Of course, the man’s appearance certainly hadn’t hurt matters. If Steve had to guess, Bucky probably clocked in around six feet tall, practically dwarfing him, and somewhere in the vicinity of 200 pounds.Steve figures most of that weight is muscle given the way the material of Bucky’s shirts strains against his impressive chest and broad shoulders.

Bucky’s dark hair had been on the long side when they’d first met, and it’s only grown since. Steve likes it best when the long strands are pulled up into a slipshod bun or braid, a few loose tendrils framing Bucky’s handsome face. And those _eyes._ Bucky’s eyes are a stunning blue-gray color; a hazy summer sky just before a thunderclap shakes the sky and the clouds drench the thirsty ground below.

Steve and Bucky both leave the building at the same time most mornings - Steve to head to the elementary school where he teaches, Bucky to his job on a construction crew in the city - so Steve is confronted with the other man’s beauty on a near-daily basis. He always makes a point to smile and wave at the brunet, and they chat occasionally if they have the time, but beyond that, their interaction has been limited. Steve assumes Bucky’s got the day off and resolves to think about maybe inviting the brunet in for a cup of coffee or something so  that they can get to know each other better.

Of course, that would mean that Steve would have to get up enough courage to stammer out an invitation. But there’s something magical about the first snow of the season, something that makes Steve feel a little bit invincible, and he thinks maybe he might be able to manage it on this perfect winter day.

 

* * *

 

Steve’s on his second cup of coffee, only half paying attention to one of the network morning shows as watches the snow drifting lazily past his windows, when he sees the body fall.

He’s on his feet in an instant, the quilt he’d pulled around his shoulders dropping to the floor as he dashes to the door and pulls on his boots. He stumbles over the untied laces as he throws open his door, shivering despite the oversized sweater dangling from his diminutive frame as he trudges toward the side of the building where the body had dropped. Steve’s pretty sure there’s only one person it could be, and his heart is beating double-time in his chest as he trudges through the snow.

“Hey!” he calls out, blue eyes searching the quilt of white that blankets the yard for movement. A moment later he hears a groan and follows the sound, startling as he sees Bucky push himself up off the ground and into a sitting position with a wince.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve hurries over, dropping to one knee in front of Bucky and grasping the other man’s shoulders, eyes scanning the brunet in an attempt to assess the damage. Bucky looks fine at first glance, if a little rumpled. “Are you all right? Does anything hurt?”

“Just my pride,” Bucky looks up at Steve through dark lashes, a sheepish grin on his handsome face. “And maybe my back, a little.”

“Come on,” Steve holds out his hand and nearly over-balances as Bucky uses him for leverage to pull himself from the ground. “Let’s get you inside. I think I have some IcyHot patches around somewhere.”

Bucky just nods, and if he has a problem with the fact that Steve still hasn’t let go of his hand as the blond leads him inside, he doesn’t mention it.

 

* * *

 

“So-” Steve begins as he settles onto the couch beside Bucky, a steaming mug in his delicate hands- “What the hell were you even doing that you fell off the house?”

Bucky accepts the beverage gratefully, humming as the sweet, creamy hot chocolate hits his tongue. “Holy fuck, did you make this from scratch? Because I think my mouth just had an orgasm, Steve.”

The slight blond blushes, and Bucky can’t help admiring the way the color brings out those too-blue eyes that haunt his dreams more often than not. The way Steve’s fair cheeks pink up on the cold mornings leaves Bucky a little breathless, and the fact that he can bring that flush to Steve’s face, that he can watch it creep down the man’s slender, elegant neck has his heart trip-hammering in his chest.

“Yes,” Steve’s eyes narrow as he looks up at Bucky, pretty red mouth twisting into a smirk that Bucky wishes he could kiss from Steve’s finely-drawn face. “Now answer the question, Barnes.”

“Bossy little thing, aren’t you?” Bucky chuckles, loving the way Steve’s lips part on an indignant exhale as his blush deepens, and Bucky briefly wonders how far down Steve’s body that flush extends. Before Steve can read Bucky the riot act, Bucky says, “Relax, Rogers, it’s cute.”

“You’re still avoiding the question,” Steve accuses, crossing his arms and glaring, those sapphire eyes of his sparkling with a mix of annoyance and amusement. “Stop flirting with me and answer it.”  

“Oh, Steve,” Bucky grins wickedly, twisting a strand of his dark hair around his index finger, pleased with the way Steve’s eyes follow the motion. “If I was flirting with you, doll, you’d know it. But to answer your question, I had the day off because of the snow and I figured I’d take advantage of it and put up my Christmas lights.”

Steve’s expression changes in an instant from one of mild disappointment (which Bucky takes to mean Steve maybe _wants_ Bucky to flirt with him which he is _absolutely_ prepared to do) to frustrated disbelief.

“Are you seriously telling me-” Steve bites out, small fists clenched by his sides, bright eyes flashing dangerously- “That you were up on the roof? _In this weather?_   _Because you were decorating for Christmas?_ _”_

Bucky snorts, placing a hand on Steve’s knee and squeezing gently as he takes another sip of his cocoa. Once he’s swallowed he replies, “I’ve been on roofs in worse weather, Steve. I work in construction, remember?”

“Yeah, well, you can’t get workman’s comp puttin’ up Christmas lights, you dolt,” Steve huffs, pushing himself up from the couch and turning to glare down at Bucky. “Did you finish?”

“With the lights?” Bucky asks, grinning when Steve nods. “Not quite, but if I get back up there soon, I should be able to call it quits before lunch.”

“Barnes,” Steve snaps, turning to look down at him, chin jutting out stubbornly as he surveys his neighbor. “You are _not_ going back up there.”

“Is that so?” Bucky rises with a slight wince, but the twinge in his back isn’t all that bad now that he’s got an IcyHot patch. Bucky barely even notices the pain as Steve’s breath hitches in his throat when Bucky moves into the blond’s personal space, towering over him. “And how exactly do you plan on keeping me from the roof, Rogers?”

Bucky smiles as Steve clears his throat, the blond's long, thin fingers tugging at the collar of his sweater as he backs up toward his kitchen.

“Well, um-” Steve stammers as he leaves the room. “Give me a second and I’ll, uh, think of something.”

“I’ll be waiting with ill-concealed anticipation,” Bucky chuckles, then proceeds to settle gingerly back onto the sofa and wait for Steve to return.

 

* * *

 

Steve wanders back into the living room a few minutes later, his breath coming in short little pants as he balances a fairly heavy Rubbermaid container in his arms. Steve can’t see Bucky over the container, but he can hear the brunet snickering.

He sets the container down, scowling at the other man as he pulls off the lid. “This is what you’re going to be doing instead of potentially killing yourself today.”

“Watching you carry boxes that are clearly too heavy for you?” Bucky smirks, giggling as Steve exhales and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Because that's gonna be a little bit depressing for me, Rogers. Especially since I can't play the hero, what with my  _terrible_ _back injury_. _"_

“No,” Steve replies, trying not to smile at Bucky’s obvious amusement since that will probably just encourage him. “You’re gonna help me decorate my apartment for Christmas.”

Bucky brightens visibly, clearly excited by the prospect as he pushes himself from the couch. Steve shakes his head as he walks over to Bucky, small hands gripping his shoulders and pushing the brunet back. Steve’s gratified by the way Bucky’s lips part on a surprised gasp, the way his pupils begin to dilate as he looks up at Steve. _Interesting_.

“You will sit on that couch,” Steve commands, voice low and firm, and is it his imagination or did Bucky’s eyes just stray to his lips? “You’re not bending over to pull stuff out of this box; you’ll just hurt your back worse. You can start helping me when I’ve got everything laid out on the table. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,”  Bucky rasps, his gray eyes wide, and _Jesus_ , Steve doesn’t need to be thinking about Bucky on his knees with that same nearly-reverent look on his face, but the image is there, searing into his brain.

Steve turns and busies himself with removing the decorations from the container so that he doesn’t do something stupid like lean forward and kiss his neighbor.

 

* * *

 

As soon as Steve’s got all the decorations set out on the table, Bucky rises from the sofa, stretching carefully before walking over toward Steve.

“All right,” Steve turns to Bucky, a small smile gracing his elfin features. “I have a step stool in one of my closets. Once I grab it, you can start hanging some string lights from the nails near the ceiling if you promise me that you’ll be _very careful._ ”

“Yes, _mom_ ,” Bucky chuckles, unable to keep from snorting as Steve stalks away, muttering under his breath about reckless idiot neighbors. He’s back a moment later with his step stool in hand and Bucky grins, grabbing the lights and immediately setting to work.

Once they’re both occupied with decorating, the conversation between them flows more easily. They chat about work for a while, and Steve smiles wide as he tells Bucky about all the cool holiday crafts he has planned for his class, how they’ll all be bouncing off the walls within the next week or so. The blond's clear enthusiasm for his students is just about the cutest thing Bucky's ever seen, and he can't resist asking Steve more to keep him talking.

“Do you tend to stay away from obvious Christmas stuff?” Bucky questions. “You know, since it’s a public school and all?”

“Yeah,” Steve nods as he hangs a couple of stockings from his fireplace. “We do a lot of snow stuff. Snowflakes. Snowmen. That kind of thing. And I make sure that if we start talkin’ about the holidays, we talk about _all_ the holidays and not just Christmas.”

Bucky finds himself telling Steve all about his family a little while later, how excited he is to see all of them at Christmas. He’s especially excited, he explains, to see his baby sister.

“Becca’s still in college,” Bucky says as he carefully hangs the lights, making sure nothing gets tangled. “I barely get to see the kid. It’ll be nice to catch up. What about you? Headin' home to see your parents.”

And that's how Bucky learns that Steve is an only child, that his father died when he was a toddler, and that he's been entirely on his own since his mother passed away just after he’d turned eighteen.

“So, what do you do for Christmas?” Bucky asks, looking over his shoulder at the blond with a furrowed brow. Steve shrugs as he artfully arranges brightly colored Christmas balls in a large glass bowl, a sad smile on his face as he sets it in the middle of his coffee table.

“Depends,” Steve replies. “Sometimes I end up at a friend’s celebrating with their family. Sometimes I end up stayin' home, cookin’ myself somethin’ small and watchin’ Christmas movies.”

“Steve,” Bucky breathes, moving to step down, but Steve holds up his hands.

“Don’t you dare,” Steve chuckles, his short hair flopping around as he shakes his head. “You gotta finish with those lights. And I’m fine, Buck. I can get by on my own.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Bucky’s voice is low and gentle as he addresses Steve, and those gorgeous blue eyes soften as Steve looks up at him. “You’re comin’ up to my place for Christmas Eve dinner this year. Or I'll come down here if you'd prefer. And you’re gonna spend Christmas day with me and my family.”

“Is that an invitation or an order?” Steve teases, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck as he ducks Bucky’s gaze.

“Little bit of both,” Bucky grins, his smile widening as Steve huffs out a laugh.

“I’ll think about it, all right?” Steve smiles up at Bucky, his blue eyes a little uncertain, but Bucky can tell that Steve’s happy he’d asked.

“You better.”

 

* * *

 

Steve’s still reeling from Bucky’s invitation as he stretches up, trying to hang a sprig of mistletoe in his kitchen doorway. He’s nearly tall enough, but he can’t quite get the string onto the hook, and he nearly jumps when he feels a gentle hand at the small of his back.

“Here,” Bucky whispers close to Steve’s ear, taking the mistletoe from him, and the small blond shivers as Bucky’s fingers brush softly against his own. “Let me help you with that.”

Steve can’t seem to help leaning back against Bucky; the brunet’s solid frame is too inviting. Although, considering the hand at the small of Steve’s back moves to circle Steve’s waist and pull him even closer, he doesn’t think Bucky has a problem with that.

“There you go,” Bucky murmurs as he hangs the greenery, and Steve cranes his head back to look at him. The smile on Bucky’s face is soft and warm, and Steve can barely breathe as the other man leans toward him.

"You said I'd know it if you were flirtin' with me," Steve's voice is far steadier than he expects as he turns in Bucky's arms, and he can't help but be a little proud of that. "I gotta tell you, Buck, this feels a lot like flirtin'."

"That's because it is, Rogers," Bucky chuckles, brushing Steve's short hair away from his face as he looks down, stormy eyes smiling.

“You know,” Bucky whispers. “I think there’s some kinda rule about what you’re supposed to do when you find yourself standing under the mistletoe with somebody.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want to fly in the face of tradition-” Steve grins, liking the way Bucky inhales sharply as their noses brush- “Would we?”

Bucky’s smiling as he kisses Steve, and the blond really likes the feeling of those lips curling up against his own. It’s slow and sweet and it takes Steve’s breath away. Bucky's hands are gentle, but sure, cupping his face and tilting Steve's head and guiding him through the kiss. Steve's kissed a fair few people, both men and women, but nothing's ever felt quite as perfect as this. His heart might be thundering in his ears, his pulse fluttering in his neck, but Steve's not nervous. Because kissing Bucky feels like something Steve hasn't experienced in years. It feels like _home._

Bucky pulls back with a contented sigh, beaming down at Steve.

“I never thought I’d say this-” Bucky giggles- “But I’m really glad that I fell off the roof today.”

Steve laughs as the brunet’s hands settle on his hips. He reaches up to grab the collar of Bucky’s shirt, then wraps his arms around Bucky's neck and pulls the brunet toward him.

“You’re an idiot, neighbor,” Steve replies, nuzzling his nose against Bucky’s.

“Does this mean you’re definitely gonna hang out with me this Christmas?” Bucky asks, stormy eyes shining with hope as he reaches up to cup Steve’s face in one hand, thumb trailing softly along Steve’s jaw.

“I told you,” Steve chuckles, liking the way Bucky shivers as Steve’s tongue darts out to trace the brunet’s bottom lip. “I’ll think about it. Now shut up and keep kissin’ me.”

“Yes sir,” Bucky whispers with a happy sigh before his plush lips begin to move against Steve’s. Steve closes his eyes and lets himself get lost in Bucky’s warm embrace.

This, he thinks to himself, might just top the magic of the first snow of the season.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Here's my [tumblr](http://emphasisonem.tumblr.com/) in case you want to follow me or request a fic or both, which I would love. I dig hearing from you all :)
> 
> And on the off chance you're not familiar with the song that I used for the title of this chapter, [here it is.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wTazqlIRN0s)


	2. Christmas Is The Time To Say “I Love You”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _All right, shit, I’m really sorry in advance. But if Nat makes a comment about us being together, like a couple or whatever, please just go with it? I told Beck I was bringin’ you as my date to Christmas Eve to shut her up and it backfired spectacularly. So, if you could just pretend to be my boyfriend that would be amazing?_
> 
> Steve doesn’t even really need to think about his response to Bucky's text, considering he’d like nothing more than to spend Christmas Eve with the man he’s had feelings for, for years now.
> 
>  _Of course,_ he types out. _What are friends for, after all?_
> 
> **In which Bucky wrongly assumes lying about dating Steve will make his life easier this Christmas.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fake dating! Mutual pining! Scheming Natasha! Just a few of things this fic has in store for you, friends. I really hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> Additionally, I've decided to title each chapter with the name of or a snatch of lyrics from various Christmas songs. Today's is ["Christmas Is The Time To Say 'I Love You'"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cmnMarFEg6Q) by Billy Squire, and it's one of my favorites.

“You’re coming to the Christmas Eve party at mom and dad’s right?” Becca asks over the phone about a week before Christmas. “Because you bailed last year and just came for dinner on Christmas, which Nat and I did _not_ appreciate at _all_.”

Bucky laughs, brushing his long, dark hair back with his free hand as he punches in the code to his apartment door with the other. “Look, it’s not _my_ fault I was recovering from a stomach bug last year, ok? I was trying to keep you all from gettin’ sick.”

“You were tryin’ to avoid mom’s questions about your love life is what you were doin’,” Becca grumbles, and Bucky snorts as he opens his front door, tossing his backpack onto the floor and heading into his kitchen to make a cup of tea. “Don’t you lie to me either; I know you.”

“So, it was an added perk that I only had to deal with the questions on Christmas day last year,” Bucky grins as he fills his teapot with water and sets it on a burner. “Plus, it’s way easier when it’s just mom askin’ and not, like, our _entire_ extended family. And all mom and dad’s friends. And you and Natasha, just to be assholes.”

Bucky can practically see Becca rolling her eyes as she groans, “We all just want you to be _happy_ , Buck. You haven’t been in a relationship for longer than a couple months since you were in college.”

“I _am_ happy, Becca,” Bucky sighs, turning on the burner and waiting for his water to boil. “You know, not everybody thinks you need to attach yourself to another person to achieve a sense of fulfillment, right?”

“Bucky,” Becca replies. “I’ve seen the gooey look you get in your eyes when we watch romantic comedies. Spare me the platitudes about the fulfillment of singledom, ok? Believe me, I get it. You’re a complete person on your own, and you’re doing well. But don’t lie to me and tell me you don’t wanna find somebody.”

“Gettin’ awfully big for your britches there, baby sister,” Bucky chuckles, settling into one of his kitchen chairs. “This outpouring of advice have anythin’ to do with you findin’ your other half earlier this year?”

“Don’t try to change the subject,” Becca snaps, but Bucky can hear the smile in her voice. “But you _are_ the only one of us without somebody special. I’ve got Wanda now. Nat’s had Clint for ages. We worry about you.”

“Um, excuse me,” Bucky protests eyes darting down to the black feline slinking into his kitchen for her afternoon meal. “I have Fuzz, thank you very much.”

“Fuzz is a cat, you fuckin’ weirdo,” Becca replies, and Bucky manages not to laugh out loud at his sister’s disgusted tone. “And, I’m sorry, I don’t care how cute she is, she cannot satisfy your need for human companionship, Buck.”

Bucky exhales through his nose, pinching the bridge as though trying to ward off a headache. Which he guesses he kind of is. “If I told you I’m bringin’ someone this year, would you lay off, Becs?”

Bucky honest-to-god has to hold the phone away from his ear because Becca is _shrieking_.

 _Why the fuck did you do that?_ Bucky asks himself as he waits for his sister to regain her composure. _Not only did it not shut her up, now you have to find some fool willing to pretend to date you for Christmas._

“Becca,” he shouts over his sister's babble. “Becca calm down, I can’t understand a word you’re sayin’.”

“Who is this mystery person?” Becca exclaims. “And why didn’t you _tell_ me? Does Nat know? I swear to god, Bucky, if you told her and not me-”

“Can you please-” Bucky interrupts. “Please just settle down. Jesus _Christ_. And you all wonder why I never mention anythin’ about my love life.”

“Stop avoidin' my questions,” Becca bubbles, and Bucky can’t help laughing. “Seriously, do we know her? Or him?”

“You do,” Bucky finds himself saying, and mentally kicks himself again. Why is he piling on lie after lie? Why is he doing this to himself?

“You’re killin’ me, Bucky, come _on,”_ Becca whines, and that’s when - even though this is the worst idea of all time - Bucky finds himself saying the name “Steve Rogers.”

“Fucking _finally!”_ Becca cries, and Bucky has no doubt that his sister is bouncing around her apartment like a goddamn child.

Bucky frowns, waiting a beat before asking, “What do you mean _finally?”_

“I mean you and Steve have been makin’ fuckin’ doe eyes at each other since you were in _college_ , Buck,” Becca giggles. “We all knew it was bound to happen eventually. I mean, you’re both bi, you’re both good lookin’ dudes, you’re practically attached at the hip. Surprised it took you both so long.”

“Well,” Bucky runs a hand through his hair, trying to formulate a response. He knows how _he_ feels about Steve, but could Becca be right? Does Steve see him the same way? “I guess the timing was just finally right for us.”

“Oh, Bucky, this is fantastic,” Becca gushes. “I gotta go; I gotta call Nat.”

“Beck, wait!” Bucky exclaims, but it’s too late. Bucky opens his messages, fingers flying as he types out a text to Steve. He knows that the blond and his adopted sister often have lunch together because their offices in Manhattan are close, and he’s potentially fucked if Steve is out with Nat when Becca calls.

_Call me ASAP, it’s an emergency. Nothing life-threatening, but I really need your help, pal._

 

* * *

 

Steve and Natasha are in line to order at Shake Shack when Natasha’s phone begins to ring.

“It’s Beck, I should answer,” the redhead grins, rolling her eyes as she looks up at her friend. “You mind ordering for me?”

“Not at all,” Steve smiles, blue eyes following the redhead as she weaves her way through the lunch crowd and out the door. Whatever Becca’s called her about, it must be exciting because Nat’s face lights up as she throws her head back and laughs. Then the woman’s piercing green eyes are meeting Steve’s through the windows, a smirk twisting at the corner of her bright red lips.

 _Interesting_ , Steve thinks to himself, startling when his phone begins vibrating against his thigh. He pulls his cell from his pocket and smiles when he sees Bucky’s name. The grin fades from his face as he reads the message, wondering what has Bucky so worried. Steve steps up to the counter, orders his and Natasha’s lunches quickly, and then moves toward a table, typing out a response.

_Havin’ lunch with your sister right now. She’s on the phone with Beck, so I have to wait for our food. I can call when we’re done, or you can just tell me what’s up now._

Bucky’s answer is nearly instantaneous.

_Fuck._

Steve’s simultaneously concerned and amused. He begins to laugh as the second text comes through.

_All right, shit, I’m really sorry in advance. But if Nat makes a comment about us being together, like a couple or whatever, please just go with it? I told Beck I was bringin’ you as my date to Christmas Eve to shut her up and it backfired spectacularly. So, if you could just pretend to be my boyfriend that would be amazing?_

Steve doesn’t even really need to think about his response to Bucky's text, considering he’d like nothing more than to spend Christmas Eve with the man he’s had feelings for, for years now.  

 _Of course_ , he types out. _What are friends for, after all?_

Bucky’s reply is immediate. _THANK YOU!!_

Steve chuckles, placing his phone into his pocket as the food and Natasha arrive at the table. The two of them thank the server, and then Natasha pounces.

“So,” Natasha grins, taking a bite of her burger. “Were you ever gonna tell me that you’re dating my brother or were you just gonna surprise us all on Christmas?”

 

* * *

 

“Pizza’s on the way,” Bucky grins sheepishly as he opens the door to his apartment. Steve just laughs and pushes past him, setting a six-pack down on the brunet’s kitchen table. “Steve, really, you’re a fuckin’ lifesaver. I woulda looked like an idiot if I had to backtrack on that story.”

Steve shrugs, a wide smile lighting up his handsome features. Bucky can’t help but grin back, inhaling deeply as he does. Steve’s smile never fails to take his breath away.

“Like I said, what are friends for?” Steve replies, a light blush coloring his sharp features. Bucky just nods, startling when there’s a second knock at the door.

“Regardless-” Bucky grins as he moves to answer it- “I owe you a shitload of pizza, Rogers.”

The two of them sit at the table, enjoying their pizza and beer, chatting about work. Bucky owns a small - miniscule, really - publishing business in Brooklyn. Steve and Nat work at the same event planning firm in midtown Manhattan, Nat as a planner, Steve as a photographer.

“We’ve got about a billion engagement shoots scheduled right after Christmas,” Steve smiles, shaking his head. “I don’t necessarily see the appeal of standing around in the woods in the cold, but whatever makes these people happy, I guess.”

“They wanna commemorate a romantic day in their lives,” Bucky protests, blushing as Steve smirks at him. “Nothing wrong with that, Rogers.”

“I always forget what a sap you are,” Steve chuckles, chin in his hands as he smiles at Bucky. “Especially this time of year. Speaking of romance, why’d you tell Beck you were datin’ me? Not that I mind or anything, I’m just curious why I’m the first name that popped into your head.”

 _Because I’m basically in love with you, you moron,_ is what Bucky wants to say.

Instead he replies, “Because I knew I could count on you to go along with it if I asked. You’re my best friend, Steve. Didn’t think you’d leave me in the lurch if I needed you.”

The fond smile on Steve’s face, the way those gorgeous sapphire eyes soften as they observe him, has Bucky’s heart beating just a smidge too fast in his chest.

“Of course I wouldn’t,” Steve replies, reaching out to place a hand on Bucky’s forearm. Bucky’s skin tingles where Steve touches him, and he just manages to keep from shivering at the contact. “Although, if we’re gonna sell it, we’re really gonna have to commit to lookin’ like a couple. That gonna bother you?”

Bucky know’s he’s flushing scarlet by now because Steve’s smile is almost a smirk. “No, I think I’ll be able to manage, punk.”

Steve nods, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “Good.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey,” Steve murmurs close to Bucky’s ear, liking the way his friend shivers a little. They’re standing outside the door to Bucky’s parents’ house, and Bucky looks more like he’s heading for the guillotine than a Christmas party. Steve smiles as he places a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “Relax, ok? It’s gonna be fine, I promise.”

Bucky exhales a long, shuddering breath, then nods before turning the doorknob and calling out to his family to let them know he’s arrived. It’s early, so the house is blissfully empty, but Steve can hear Bucky’s parents and sisters fussing as they prepare.

Becca’s the first to greet them, sprinting into the living room from the kitchen, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Steve grins as the young brunette propels herself into Bucky’s arms, chuckling as Bucky nearly falls back from the force of Becca’s hug.

“Jesus Christ, kid,” Bucky’s voice is muffled by his sister’s long curls. “Will you relax? God, you act like we haven’t seen each other in years.”

“Shut up, I’m excited,” Becca sing-songs as she pulls back, then pulls Steve into a tight embrace. “I’m so glad you’re here, Steve. Especially since you’re _finally_ here as Bucky’s boyfriend. We were starting to think it might never happen.”

“Glad to be here, Beck,” Steve replies, grinning down at her as she releases him. “And I agree, it’s about time.”

Steve reaches out, slinging an arm across Bucky’s shoulders and pulling him close. Steve kisses Bucky’s cheek, loving the way the brunet blushes and smiles as he looks up at Steve. For a moment, Steve actually forgets that they’re not really together.

“Come on, lovebirds,” Becca giggles, waving them forward. “Come say hi to everybody. They’re _dying_ to see you.”

 

* * *

 

“You know he’s in love with you, right?” Natasha whispers as she sidles up to Bucky later that night, handing him a bottle of beer. Clint, who’s standing on Bucky’s other side, smiles and nods. Bucky looks down into his sister’s eyes, his heart sinking a little as he realizes she probably knows _exactly_ what’s going on.

Becca might be Bucky’s sister by blood, but nobody knows him quite as well as Natasha, adopted or not.

“It’s, uh-” Bucky stammers, trying to find his conversational footing. “It’s a little early in the relationship to use the L word, Nat.”

“I mean, Steve and I-” he continues, gesturing toward the tall, broad-shouldered man who’s currently charming the pants off his parents, Becca and Becca’s girlfriend, Wanda. “We’ve only been official for like a month now.”

“Cut the crap,” Natasha replies, but she’s grinning, so Bucky knows she’s not mad at him. “I understand why you picked Steve to be your fake boyfriend - you’re  in love with him, and he’d do anything for you because he feels the same - but you know he’s the worst liar of all time, right? And it's not like you're much better.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bucky huffs, taking a pull from his bottle. “Nobody’s lyin’ about anything.”

“Oh, really?” Natasha’s got a Cheshire-cat grin on her face, and Bucky knows in that moment that he’s unquestionably doomed. Clint snickering to his left only confirms it.

“Admit it while you can,” the other man advises him, a wide smile lighting up his rugged features. “Or she’ll make you live to regret it.”

Bucky swallows, eyes darting toward Steve, but keeps his mouth shut.

“Have it your way,” Natasha continues, voice light and airy, despite the scheming smirk on her face as she and Clint wander off, leaving Bucky to wonder what fresh hell he’s just wrought upon himself.

 

* * *

 

They should have seen this coming, Steve thinks, as Natasha slinks toward them, a sprig of mistletoe in her hand. Bucky shifts as though he’s about to bolt from the couch where they’re sitting.

“If you bail, you’re gonna give us away,” Steve whispers, grabbing Bucky’s hand and squeezing in an attempt to reassure his friend. There’s still fear in the other man’s  gray-blue eyes, but he nods.

“It’s a Barnes family tradition-” Natasha grins as she stands before them, batting her eyelashes- “To embarrass new couples at the Christmas Eve party.”

“Becca and Wanda are a new couple,” Bucky snaps, glaring at the redhead. It’s been a while since any of his siblings or cousins have started dating somebody new, and he’d completely forgotten about this stupid tradition.

“You’re newer,”  Natasha chuckles, dangling the mistletoe over their heads, a triumphant glint in her eyes. “Now kiss.”

“We’re not into PDA,” Bucky grits out, and Steve tries running his thumb in soothing circles along the back of Bucky’s hand. The brunet glances at him, but he doesn’t budge.

“It’s tradition,” Natasha sing-songs, and then begins chanting. “Kiss, kiss, kiss.”

It doesn’t take long for Becca and Wanda to take up the chant, and a moment later, every guest is urging Steve and Bucky to “Kiss, kiss, kiss!”

Bucky finally turns his full attention to Steve, stormy eyes panic-stricken and desperate. So, Steve solves the problem. He leans forward and captures Bucky’s lips in a kiss.

 

* * *

 

Bucky doesn’t think it’d be an exaggeration to say that time stops when Steve’s mouth meets his. His lips are warm and gentle, moving slow and easy against Bucky’s own. For a moment, Bucky thinks his heart stops beating.

But then it’s slamming against his ribcage, and his hands are flying up to Steve’s shoulders, gripping them tightly as he kisses Steve back. Bucky needs _something_ to ground him because he honestly feels like he might float away.

Bucky pulls back a moment later, afraid that if he doesn’t, his family and friends are going to get quite a show because all Bucky wants to do is pin Steve to the nearest flat surface and get his mouth on every inch of his friend's body. Steve’s bright eyes are dazed and glassy, and he looks sort of stunned by what he’s just done. 

“Well, then,” Natasha chuckles, walking away. “I guess I stand corrected.”

Bucky ignores her and tries to smile at Steve, to reassure his friend that everything is all right, that nothing between them has changed.

Even if he doesn’t quite believe that himself.

 

* * *

 

It’s late when Steve and Bucky make their way up to Bucky’s childhood room, the silence between them thick with words neither of them seems to know how to say. Steve waits until the door’s shut behind them and both of them have changed into sweats and t-shirts before turning to his friend, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now, you know,” Steve begins, carefully observing Bucky’s reaction. The brunet turns to face him, brow furrowed.

“Do what?” Bucky asks, and Steve huffs out an exasperated sigh.

“Don’t do that to me, Buck,” Steve replies, making his way forward, not stopping until he's standing directly in front of the other man. “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what I’m talkin’ about. And don’t act like it didn’t affect you too because I saw the look on your face. You wanted that just as much as I did.”

Bucky’s eyes are wide as Steve invades his personal space, wrapping strong arms around his waist and pulling him close.

"Steve, I-" Bucky stammers, hands settling on Steve's chest. Settling, Steve notes, not pushing him away. "I don't know if this is such a good idea."

"If what's such a good idea?" Steve asks, bringing a hand up to cup Bucky's cheek. "You and me? Bucky, I gotta be honest, I don't think I could come up with a better idea if I tried."

"And what if it doesn't work out?" Bucky eyes flash as he gazes up at Steve, and Steve can hardly breathe because this man is simply the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. "What if we give this a shot and it doesn't work and it ruins everything?"

"What if it does work?" Steve's hand moves to Bucky's neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck before cradling the back of Bucky's head. "What if you and I are perfect for each other and it works out fantastically, but we never gave it a shot? Wouldn't you regret it, Buck?"

"Steve," Bucky whispers as the blond rests his forehead against Bucky's. "Of course, I would regret it, but-"

“You know,” Steve breathes, leaning close to Bucky, reveling in the feel of the other man’s breath against his lips. “They say Christmas is the best time of year to tell people you love ‘em. It’s supposed to be romantic or somethin’.”

Steve grins, rolling his eyes, and Bucky barks out a laugh, eyes wide with surprise as they scan Steve's face.

“It _is_ romantic, you punk,” Bucky sasses, wrapping his arms around Steve's neck. "Steve, are you sayin'-?"

"Yes," Steve answers, pulling Bucky into a tight hug, reveling in the way Bucky sighs as Steve's arms encircle his waist tightly. "That's  _exactly_ what I'm sayin'. I'm in love with you, you oblivious dolt."

"Excuse me," Bucky gasps, glaring up at Steve even as a grin stretches wide across those plush pink lips of his. “What happened to bein' romantic, Rogers. Jesus, and you were doin' so good for a second there. Now shut up and kiss me before you ruin the moment entirely.”

Steve obliges with a soft laugh, closing the gap between them, kissing Bucky like he needs it to breathe, and he can’t help groaning when Bucky nips at his bottom lip.

“I love you too, you know,” Bucky whispers against Steve’s lips, bringing a hand up to cup Steve’s chin, and Steve can’t fight the shiver that rolls through him as Bucky sucks on his bottom lip. “God, Steve, you really want me?”

“I do,” Steve replies, loving the soft smile on Bucky’s face. “I love you, Buck. More than anything.”

Steve’s grin turns feral as he slides his hands from Bucky’s waist to cup the brunet’s ass, squeezing  it and rolling his hips forward. Bucky’s breath hitches and his pupils dilate as his hips jerk forward at the sensation.

“And since it’s Christmas,” Steve purrs as he backs the two of them toward the bed. “I think you should let me show you just how much I love you. It'll be your Christmas present.”

“You cocky son of a bitch,” Bucky laughs, tugging Steve along with him as he falls back against his mattress with a happy sigh. "Merry fucking Christmas to me."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you have a prompt, you can send it via [my tumblr](http://emphasisonem.tumblr.com/) or just leave it in the comments :)


	3. Ho, Ho, The Mistletoe Hung Where You Can See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, hey,” Bucky’s voice is low and sensual, and Steve can’t help shivering at the desire in the other man’s eyes. Steve knows the look well, but he’s more than a little surprised it’s directed at him. “Would you look at that?”
> 
> Steve follows Bucky’s gaze upward, inhaling sharply at the sprig of mistletoe hanging from the wall. He tears his gaze from the plant, blue eyes wide and searching as he looks up into Bucky’s smiling face. 
> 
> **In which Bucky takes advantage of a holiday staple to show Steve how he feels.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise not every one of these will involve mistletoe. I was having a little trouble finishing the stories I started working on today, and this was the only one I managed to get done and it's already nine, so. More mistletoe lol. I mean, I know I will never get tired of the oh, look, mistletoe trope, but I don't want to bore you all with it. Hope you enjoy this one!
> 
> Title from ["Holly Jolly Christmas."](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c-E16Udav7M)

“Stevie, why didn’t you ask for help puttin’ out more food?” Bucky asks, and Steve looks up to see his friend’s gray-blue eyes shining with amusement as he watches Steve replenish the chips and dip. They and their roommate Sam are hosting a small pre-Christmas get-together, and Steve is naturally a cat on a hot tin roof when it comes to making sure he’s being a good host.

“You were busy flirtin’ as usual,” Steve snaps, and Bucky actually jerks back, clearly surprised by the bite in the sentiment.

“I was actually puttin’ in a good word for Sam with my co-worker Maria,” Bucky replies, an incredulous smirk spreading across his plush, pink lips. That expression always has the power to simultaneously infuriate and excite Steve, and he can feel a hot flush creeping down his neck as he pour potato chips into a bowl. “Had no idea it bothered ya so much, Rogers.”

“It doesn’t,” Steve huffs, glaring up at Bucky. Which is an outright lie, but like hell is he going to tell his sinfully attractive best friend that he’s been harboring feelings for him for years. Steve knows Bucky, knows he goes after what he wants. If Bucky were interested in Steve, he’d have made a move by now.

“Really?” Bucky practically purrs, rounding the table Steve’s standing behind. There’s a few feet between it and the wall, which is great while Steve’s standing there replenishing snacks. It becomes problematic once Bucky slides into the space, positioning himself right in front of Steve, leanly muscled arms effectively caging the smaller man against the wall. “Because it kind of seems like it bothers you.”

“Get over yourself, Barnes,” Steve snorts, moving to duck below his friend’s arms, but Bucky’s too fast. He catches Steve, gripping his shoulders firmly as he smiles.

“Well, hey,” Bucky’s voice is low and sensual, and Steve can’t help shivering at the desire in the other man’s eyes. Steve knows the look well, but he’s more than a little surprised it’s directed at him. “Would you look at that?”

Steve follows Bucky’s gaze upward, inhaling sharply at the sprig of mistletoe hanging from the wall. He tears his gaze from the plant, blue eyes wide and searching as he looks up into Bucky’s smiling face.

“Rules are rules,” Bucky murmurs as he leans forward, a hand reaching to cradle the back of Steve’s head, and Steve thinks there’s a good chance his heart might stop within the next few seconds. “Unless, you’d rather I didn’t kiss you, Stevie. Because you know I’d never make you do somethin’ you don’t wanna do.”

“Bucky,” Steve gasps as the brunet’s thigh finds its way between Steve’s legs, rubbing gently and creating a delicious friction. His hands fly to his friend’s waist, holding him tight in an effort to regain some of his composure.

“Of course, if you do want me to kiss you-” Bucky whispers, the breath of his exhales teasing Steve’s skin and sending a rash of goosebumps down his arms. “I’d be happy to oblige.”

“Hah,” Steve exhales a sharp short sound that’s supposed to be an affirmation. He tilts his head up toward Bucky just in case the brunet doesn’t get the hint. He does.

Bucky’s lips press against his, softer and more tentative than Steve would have imagined. For a moment, he’s not quite sure what to do because he’s so overwhelmed by the gentle pressure. And then Steve’s wrapping his arms around Bucky’s neck, pulling him closer and moaning softly into the kiss.

Bucky sighs as his tongue curls against the roof of Steve’s mouth and then tangles with Steve’s. Steve can’t help the way his hips jerk forward or the desperate whimper that escapes him. He’s belatedly  grateful that Bucky had insisted on dimming the lights and making sure the Christmas music was blasting from the speakers. It’s not like he cares if people catch a glimpse of them kissing, but the last thing he needs is to be the center of attention.

Bucky pulls back, panting and staring down at Steve like the blond’s the most perfect thing he’s ever seen, and Steve can’t help blushing under that direct gaze.

“Knew you’d be a good kisser,” Bucky smiles, running gentle fingers across Steve’s cheek. “And, uh, in case it wasn’t clear, I don’t have an issue with you bein’ jealous when I flirt with other people. Because lately the only person I’ve been interested in flirtin’ with is you.”

“Yeah?” Steve can’t help the wide grin stretching across his lips. “You mean it?”

“I do,” Bucky chuckles, leaning down to kiss Steve’s forehead and working his way down to Steve’s lips.

“Did you hang that mistletoe there when I wasn’t lookin’-” Steve giggles as they break for air a moment later- “Because you knew I’d be the one keepin’ an eye on the snacks and you wanted an excuse to kiss me?”

“I mean,” Bucky huffs, and Steve likes the way Bucky’s cheeks begin to pink up and the fact that he can’t seem to meet Steve’s eyes as he sputters, “I might have. For that reason. Possibly.”

“You know,” Steve grins, leaning up to kiss Bucky’s nose. “I don’t think I need to be worried about you flirtin’ at all. If you thought you needed a plant to get me to kiss you, maybe your flirting skills need some work, Barnes.”

Bucky barks out a laugh, steely eyes shining with amusement. “That so, Rogers? You wanna help me with that? You could be my guinea pig.”

“I suppose we could arrange something,” Steve teases, tangling his hands in Bucky’s long, dark hair and tugging gently.

“Merry Christmas, Steve,” Bucky whispers against the blond’s lips as he giggles.

“Merry Christmas, Buck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to send requests via [tumblr](http://emphasisonem.tumblr.com/) or just post them in the comments :)


	4. You Better Be Good (For Goodness' Sake)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hmm, let’s see,” Steve taps his chin thoughtfully, a gentle smile on his lips, and Bucky can’t help the way his breath catches in the back of his throat as those beautiful blue eyes fix on his, looking determined.
> 
> Of course, the effect is ruined completely when Steve leans toward him and purrs, “Come sit on my lap; I’ve got a special gift just for you.”
> 
> The laugh bubbles up out of his throat before Bucky can stop it, and he’s fighting for air as Steve smiles at him. 
> 
> “Rogers, that was _terrible,”_ Bucky gasps, still giggling as he wipes the tears forming in his eyes away. “Holy shit, has that ever actually worked?”
> 
> **In which Bucky misses his flight home, goes to a bar to drown his sorrows, and ends up having a hell of an evening with an airline pilot.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said there'd be some smut sprinkled in between the fluff? ;)
> 
> Title's from some of the lyrics in "Santa Claus is Comin' to Town." I was listening to the [Bruce Springsteen version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1xOe4GRyebo) when the idea popped into my head, but I would also highly recommend the [Pointer Sisters version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3eVCeHTMWg0) as well. Both are just so full of joy and fun :)
> 
> Anyway, hope you like this little story!

Bucky supposes that maybe spending the night before Christmas Eve in a bar wouldn’t be so goddamn depressing if he wasn’t alone and exhausted, but he is both of those things and well on his way to tipsy as he slouches forward on his stool, elbows resting on the bartop as he stares into the amber liquid sloshing around in his glass as he lifts it to his lips.

Of _course_ he’d managed to miss his late flight home. Of _course_ there are no seats on upcoming flights left. No bus or train tickets. No cars he could rent. Even if he starts walking now, which is a thought that’s crossed his mind, there’s no way he’ll make it in time to watch his nieces open presents Christmas morning. Hell, he’ll be lucky if he can find a way to make it to Christmas dinner.

So, he’s sitting in this dingy bar - The Howling Commando - near the airport, drowning his sorrows in halfway decent bourbon. Alone. The night before Christmas Eve.

Until, all of a sudden, he’s not.

 

* * *

 

Steve walks into The Howling Commando with a wide grin on his face. He’s flown his last until after New Year’s, and he figures he deserves a nightcap before he heads home for a decent night’s sleep. He’ll need to behave, he reminds himself; he’s heading home to Brooklyn in the morning to spend the holiday with his mother. Steve loves Boston, but it’s been ages since he’s seen her and had some fun in his old neighborhood. He’s looking forward to it.

“Heya, Dum-Dum,” Steve grins at the burly ginger behind the bar as he slides onto a stool. “How’s things.”

“Be better if I were home with my wife and kids,” Tim Dugan chuckles as he grabs a cloudy pint glass and holds it up. “The usual?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Steve nods, pulling a ten from his wallet and setting it on the bar. “Don’t wanna overdo it tonight; gotta get back to my place and get some sleep before I drive home in the mornin’.”

“Bet your ma’ll be happy to see ya,” Dum-Dum smiles as he slides the beer toward Steve a moment later, nodding as another patron signals to him. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

“Merry Christmas, Dum-Dum” Steve replies, watching the other man saunter over to get a couple of giggling young women another round. Steve smiles as one leans toward the other, brushing a light kiss along the woman’s cheek. There’s something about happy couples at Christmastime that makes his heart ache in a surprisingly pleasant way.

The smile fades from Steve’s face as a young man catches his eye. His longish dark hair is mussed, as though he’s been running a hand through it all day. He’s staring down into a tumbler, and Steve can’t see the expression on his face, but he can tell from the guy’s posture that it’s probably melancholy. He’s got a nice profile, Steve thinks, the sharp edge of his cheek and jawline offset by a little softness under the chin and the elegant curve of his leanly muscled body.

Before Steve really has time to consider his actions, he’s standing up and making his way toward the other man.

“Cheer up, pal,” Steve chuckles as he slides onto the stool beside the man. “Almost Christmas.”

The brunet looks up, and Steve is met with large, sad eyes that might be a deep blue. Maybe gray. It’s hard to tell in the dim lighting around the bar. His nose is a little on the smaller side, and just below it is the most sinfully plush pair of lips Steve’s ever seen on a man.

The laugh that rumbles out of the guy’s chest sounds a little rusty, and Steve wants nothing more than to chase his hand as he cards his fingers through his dark hair. The strands look incredibly soft up close.

“God, I must be a depressing sight so close to the holiday,” the man chuckles, his voice low and raspy in a way that has goosebumps forming on Steve’s forearms. The brunet straightens up and turns toward Steve, extending his hand. Steve’s more than a little gratified by the way those beautiful eyes widen as they take in his frame. Steve knows he’s a fairly impressive figure, but it’s nice that a man this attractive seems to think so too.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” the man grins, and Steve shakes his hand. “Most people call me Bucky.”

“You cover the Red Sox for the Globe, don’t you?” Steve asks, releasing Bucky’s hand. “Your coverage is incredible. ESPN oughta hire you; you’re better than most of their analysts.”

Despite the dimness of the bar, Bucky’s clearly blushing, and _Christ,_ it’s the cutest thing Steve’s ever seen. “Uh, yeah,” he answers, ducking his head bashfully. “That’s me. Got a good memory for names, there. You wanna tell me yours, Captain?”

Steve chuckles, shucking the navy jacket that gives away his position as an American Airlines pilot and folding it across the bartop. “Steve Rogers. Good to meet you, Bucky. Mind if I ask what’s got you so down?”

“Tryin’ to get home and missed my flight,” Bucky huffs. “I fill in on the Bruins beat when the regular reporter’s on vacation, and of course the game went into overtime. Fuckin’ typical Bruins. I love hockey, but fuck, I really wanted to get home in time to watch my nieces open their gifts Christmas mornin’. Won’t manage that, but thank fuckin’ Christ the city of Boston will get to read all about how their team nearly choked at the end of the game.”

“No other transportation available?” Steve asks before taking a sip of beer, a little bit surprised when Bucky’s eyes drift to his lips before locking with Steve’s own. The corners crinkle as Bucky smiles sadly.

“This close to Christmas?” Bucky shrugs. “Unfortunately, no. I figure I’ll get drunk tonight and check back in tomorrow.”

“Not a bad plan,” Steve chuckles, then gets an idea. “Bet I could make it a little better?”

“Oh yeah, Captain?” Bucky smirks, and shit, but that expression is sexy. It doesn’t help that now Steve’s wondering how ‘Captain’ would sound coming out of Bucky’s perfect mouth with Steve’s cock buried in his ass. Would it be a whimper? A groan? Soft and raspy or loud and desperate?

Steve can feel heat rising to his cheeks as a mischievous glint enters the brunet’s eyes. “What’d you have in mind?”

“Awful Christmas pick-up lines,” Steve grins, proud of how even his voice sounds as he leans back and waits for Bucky’s response. “Two bachelors alone in a bar? We ougtta be practicin’ in case any cute gals come in. This is the only time of year when garbage holiday puns sometimes get you laid.”

Bucky snorts, shaking his head. “I tend to prefer fellas, Rogers.”

Steve can feel the wicked grin spreading across his face as he traces a finger along Bucky’s forearm. “And you think cheesy holiday pickup lines won’t work on fellas? Because I have news for you, Barnes, they totally do.”

“All right,” Bucky laughs, eyes flashing with surprise as he shoves Steve’s shoulder playfully. “You’re on.”

 

* * *

 

“Hmm, let’s see,” Steve taps his chin thoughtfully, a gentle smile on his lips, and Bucky can’t help the way his breath catches in the back of his throat as those beautiful blue eyes fix on his, looking determined.

Of course, the effect is ruined completely when Steve leans toward him and purrs, “Come sit on my lap; I’ve got a special gift just for you.”

The laugh bubbles up out of his throat before Bucky can stop it, and he’s fighting for air as Steve smiles at him.

“Rogers, that was _terrible,_ ” Bucky gasps, still giggling as he wipes the tears forming in his eyes away. “Holy shit, has that ever actually worked?”

“Yes,” Steve nods, grabbing his pint and taking another sip. “On three separate occasions. Now, come on, it’s your turn.”

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky exhales a laugh. “All right, uh,” -Bucky pauses for a moment to think, before snickering and saying, “I just got some mistletoe. Why don’t we head back to my place and try it out?”

“Amateur line,” Steve scoffs, turning on his stool to face Bucky head on. Bucky mimics the motion, liking the way Steve’s knees bump against his own. They’re sitting too close together now for this to be anything _other_ than flirting, but Bucky doesn’t have any problem with the Adonis beside him putting the moves on him. Hell, it might even work.

“Can I take a picture of you so I can show Santa _exactly_ what I want for Christmas?” Steve bats his eyelashes as he gazes down at Bucky, and the brunet blushes as he giggles.

“All right, that one’s actually kind of sweet,” Bucky murmurs, pushing his hair back as it falls into his eyes. “I could see you trickin’ a nice girl with a line like that.”

“What about a nice guy?” Steve smirks, quirking a brow as he drags his gaze down Bucky’s body, and holy _shit_ , this guy is genuinely hitting on him right now. And Bucky’s falling for it hook, line and sinker.

He grins, biting his lip and shaking his head. “Maybe. My turn.”

Steve looks at him expectantly as Bucky thinks, then grins, “I’m like a Christmas present - you’ll love waking up to me in the morning.”

“Oh, I have no doubt I’d enjoy that very much,” Steve laughs, and Bucky’s maybe having a little trouble breathing because Steve’s voice has dropped to a low, gravelly register and he’s looking at Bucky like he wants nothing more than to get him into bed.

Steve’s hand is on Bucky’s knee all of a sudden as he leans forward to whisper in Bucky’s ear, “Your stocking isn’t the only thing I’ll be stuffing tonight.”

Bucky should be cracking up right now, but Steve’s so _close,_ and he smells so _good_ , and his voice is low and raspy and absolutely intoxicating. Bucky’s a little dizzy with how much he wants the blond right now.

“Steve,” Bucky breathes as he feels the other man’s lips plant a soft kiss on his neck, tongue darting out to taste Bucky’s skin. “Are you just fuckin’ with me right now?”

“No,” Steve chuckles, the ghost of his breath bringing goosebumps to Bucky’s skin. “No I’m not fuckin’ with you, Bucky. I’d like to _be_ fuckin’ you if you don’t have any objections.”

“None whatsoever,” Bucky rasps, pulling his wallet from his pocket and dropping more than enough to cover his drink and the bartender’s tip before grabbing Steve’s hand and dragging him out the door.

 

* * *

 

“Shit,” Steve hisses as Bucky slams him back against the front door of his apartment, then drops to his knees and begins to work open Steve’s slacks. “You don’t fuck around, do you?”

“Hey, you’re the one who got me all riled up in the bar,” Bucky chuckles, and Steve shudders as Bucky’s breath hits his cock. “But I’d be happy to slow down if you’d prefer.”

“Stop sassin’ me and get your mouth on my cock, Barnes,” Steve groans out a laugh, whining high in his throat as Bucky swallows him down. Bucky hums as he pulls back, sucking hard on the tip as he swirls his tongue, and Steve’s hips buck forward of their own accord.

“Fuck, you’re good at this,” Steve gasps, fisting his hands in Bucky’s dark hair. “God, baby, _fuck_.”

Steve’s shaking with the effort of holding himself up as Bucky pulls off of his cock a few minutes later, a sly smile on his face as he stands up and kisses Steve gently.

“If I recall,” Bucky whispers. “There was some talk of stuffing something other than my stocking tonight.”

Steve barks out a laugh, flipping their positions so that Bucky’s back is against the door as Steve slides a leg beneath the brunet’s thighs and begins to apply gentle pressure.

“That what you want?” Steve purrs, as he begins to mouth at Bucky’s neck, nipping and sucking at the tender skin. “Want me to fill you up, baby doll? Gotta tell me what you want, Buck.”

“Fuck me,” Bucky sighs, moaning as Steve sucks a bruise into his neck. “Want you to fuck me, _please.”_

“Gonna make you feel so good, Buck,” Steve kisses the other man’s lips gently and takes his hand. “Come on, take me to bed.”

 

* * *

 

“Steve,” Bucky keens high in his throat as the taller man pins his wrists above his head and begins kissing his way along Bucky’s jaw and down the curve of his neck.  _“Please.”_

“God, you’re beautiful,” Steve sighs as he pulls back to look at Bucky, those blue eyes shining as they rake down Bucky’s naked body, and Bucky wonders if he's gazing at Steve's bare skin in the same near-reverent way. “Keep your hands above your head for me.”

“Wanna touch you,” Bucky huffs, pouting even as he grasps the pillow beneath his head. Steve chuckles low and dark as he runs a hand down Bucky’s cheek.

“You’ll get to, I promise,” Steve smiles, and _Jesus_ , Bucky can hardly breathe, the softness in that expression is so genuine. “Want you to focus on what I’m doin’ to you, baby. Want you to remember _exactly-”_ Steve smirks as he shifts down Bucky’s body, nipping playfully at a hardened nipple and Bucky doesn’t _yelp_ exactly, but it’s close- “Who’s makin’ you feel this way, doll.”

“Like I’m gonna forget,” Bucky groans as Steve latches on, kissing and sucking at his chest as his large, warm hands drift south, gripping Bucky’s thighs and pushing them open so that Steve can slip between them and roll his hips against Bucky's. “Like I could forget somebody like you.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Steve chuckles, then begins to work his way down Bucky’s lithe, graceful form. And just when Bucky thinks Steve’s finally going to start sucking his cock, the blond flips him over and pushes his ass cheeks apart with his thumbs, and oh _fuck_ , Bucky is so hard now that it hurts.

“This ok?” Steve breathes, and Bucky shivers at the feeling of the warm air against his puckered hole.

“Fuck, _yes_ ,” Bucky replies, shouting when Steve’s tongue begins to tease at his entrance. “God, _please_.”

Steve doesn’t waste any time, tongue delving into Bucky and loosening him, getting him good and wet. Steve groans against Bucky, and the vibrations have Bucky shuddering and grinding into the mattress. From the way Steve's moaning and whimpering, you'd think  _he_ was the one being eaten out, and the noises he's making are driving Bucky up a fucking wall. He wants, god but he  _wants_ this man so badly he could cry. 

“Steve,” Bucky gasps out a few minutes later, trembling as his hands fist in the sheets. “Steve, I need more, _please_. Need you inside me. Need your cock, come on.”

Bucky can feel Steve laughing against him, but the blond pulls back, then begins kissing his way up Bucky’s back. “Don’t you move,” Steve nips at Bucky’s earlobe, then sucks the skin between his teeth, and Bucky’s hips stutter forward as he moans. “Just tell me where I can find the lube and the condoms.”

“Top drawer of the table on the right,” Bucky gasps, shaking with anticipation as he waits for Steve to find what they need. His cock twitches as he hears the bottle of lube open, and then Steve’s pulling Bucky’s hips upward with one hand as the other slides between his cheeks and begins to open Bucky up.

“You sure you wanna do this?” Steve asks, a hint of laughter in his voice as he removes his fingers once Bucky’s prepared and tears open the condom. “Not that I’m tryin’ to talk you out of it or anythin’, but-”

“All due respect, Captain-” Bucky groans- “but shut up and fuck me already.”

Bucky just about shrieks Steve’s name as the blond slides into him hard and fast, snapping his hips forward as he grips Bucky tight.

“So mouthy,” Steve gasps out a giggle as he sets a brutal pace, his cock grazing Bucky’s prostate on every thrust, and _Christ_ , there’s no way Bucky’s arms are going to hold him in this position for long. “I like it.”

 

* * *

 

“Steve,” Bucky gasps out as the blond reaches down and begins stroking Bucky’s length, shuddering as Bucky tightens around him. “Fuck, so good. I need, I need-”

“Tell me,” Steve rasps, slowing his thrusts and angling his hips so that his cock drags torturously against Bucky’s prostate, reveling in the shivers rolling through the other man’s body. “Come on, baby, tell me what you need.”

“Need to come,” Bucky sobs out, hips pushing back against Steve’s, taking Steve ever deeper. Steve doesn’t want this to end, wants to stay here in this bed with this man he barely knows forever because there’s something about him that draws Steve in like a moth to a flame. But he knows he’s getting close and he wants Bucky coming first, wants to feel the other man spasming and tightening around his cock.

“So come,” Steve breathes, nipping at the skin of Bucky’s neck as he increase his hand’s pace on Bucky’s cock. He can feel the precome leaking from the tip. Steve takes a second, laughing at the whine that leaves Bucky when he removes his hand for a moment to bring his fingers to his mouth. He sucks loudly, groaning so that Bucky knows exactly what he’s doing. The brunet catches on quick, moaning as he glances over his shoulder at Steve.

“You like it, Cap?” Bucky shudders as Steve’s hand returns to his cock, stroking in time with the thrust of his hips. “You like the way I taste? Fuckin’ greedy for me, aren’t you? All you had to do was say, so, honey, I’d’ve let you have it.”

“Jesus, you got a filthy mouth,” Steve exhales, kissing Bucky before the brunet turns away from him. “And I think maybe you’re forgettin’ who’s in charge right now.”

“Better show me, then,” Bucky challenges, whimpering as Steve slows his pace to an agonizing slide, a leisurely back and forth, until Bucky’s shaking against him.

“You gonna be good for me now, doll?” Steve chuckles, low and dark, liking the way Bucky’s muscles clench desperately around him. “You gonna show the Captain a little respect?”

“Yes,” Bucky gasps out, his knuckles white as Steve begins to pick up the pace again.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir,” Bucky sobs out, and Steve moans as he begins to stroke Bucky hard and fast. "Yes, _Captain."_

“That’s it, baby,” Steve croons, hips stuttering as Bucky’s thrusts become more erratic. “That’s it, give it up for me, come on.”

“Steve, Steve, Steve,” Bucky’s chanting his name like a fucking prayer, and Steve sends up his own plea that this won’t be the only time he gets this gorgeous man into bed. Prays this will be the first of many experiences with the handsome brunet.

Steve twists his wrist just so, and then Bucky’s coming with a hoarse cry, his seed spilling over Steve’s hand and onto the sheets, and Steve follows with a shout of his own as his orgasm slams through him.

 

* * *

 

“I should call the airline before I drift off,” Bucky murmurs as he curls into Steve’s side, relishing the other man’s soft, solid frame beneath his head. “Amtrak too.”

“I should have asked before,” Steve mumbles, running a hand through Bucky’s hair, and Bucky hums as the sensation. “But I was distracted by how hot you are. Where ya headin’?”

“New York,” Bucky giggles, yawning as he tosses an arm across Steve’s waist. “Brooklyn.”

Bucky nearly rolls off the bed Steve laughs so loud.

“Well, you’re in luck, pal,” Steve smiles, planting a quick kiss to Bucky’s nose. “Because it just so happens that my ma lives in Brooklyn and I’m drivin’ down tomorrow. You wanna come with?”

“Really?” Bucky chirps, smiling as he gazes up at Steve. “That won’t be weird for you, considering?”

“Considering what?” Steve chuckles, ruffling Bucky’s hair.

“Well, the whole one-night stand thing,” Bucky ducks his head, trying to ignore the blush rising to his cheeks.

Steve huffs out a laugh, grabbing Bucky’s chin and forcing him to look up. “If it makes you uncomfortable, don’t worry about it. But given how mind-blowing what we just did was, and the fact that you seem like a good guy, I think spending some time with you on the way home for the holidays would be really nice. I’d like to get to know you, if you’re ok with that, and I was sort of hoping you’d maybe let me take you out sometime? Maybe New Year's Eve if you don't already have plans?”

“Oh,” Bucky blinks up at Steve, and he can feel the stupid smile that’s spreading across his face. “Yeah, that’s. I’d like that. Thank you.”

Steve nods, kissing Bucky sweetly. “Now, get some sleep. We gotta get an early start if we wanna get you packed up, get my stuff and beat as much traffic as possible.”

“Yeah,” Bucky smiles as Steve wraps his strong arms around him and pulls him close. “Night, Steve.”

"Night, Buck."

And as Bucky begins to drift toward sleep, he silently thanks the Bruins goalie for allowing that second goal with two minutes to spare in the third period. Turns out the overtime didn’t fuck up his holiday so badly after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to send prompts via [tumblr](http://emphasisonem.tumblr.com/) or just leave them in the comments :)


	5. Santa Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Those are the most ridiculous fuckin’ towels I’ve ever seen,” Steve snaps. “Not to mention kind of gross.”
> 
> “Oh, Stevie,” Bucky bats his eyelashes, smiling up at his friend sweetly. “You’re not jealous are you?” 
> 
> **In which Bucky buys a suggestive Christmas decoration and Steve is not impressed.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if this is, like, so-so. It was a long day at the office spent scouring credit card statements in an effort to project my department's budget for next year, so I don't feel like I'm on my A-game. I mean, I still think this is cute. I don't know. I hope you guys enjoy it :)
> 
> My personal favorite version of "Santa Baby" is [Eartha Kitt's](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jFMyF9fDKzE), but if you'd like to laugh forever at a man singing this song while simultaneously no-homo-ing the whole way through, please see the [Michael Bublé version.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lbbFpzly3eo) The changes to the lyrics are a scream.

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me, Barnes?”

Bucky glances up from the book he’s reading to see Steve standing in the kitchen doorway with his arms crossed over his impressive chest. Steve’s been Bucky’s best friend since they were about six, and Bucky’s been on the receiving end of that look more times than he’d like to count over the last seventeen years. He sees it even more frequently now that the two of them are roommates, the impatient flash of Steve’s too-blue eyes, the stubborn jut of his chin, the way his lips don’t quite pout but come close. Bucky’s always found it kind of adorable when Steve’s mad at him.

“You’re gonna need to be, like, slightly more specific about whatever it is that you think I’ve done wrong,” Bucky replies matter-of-factly as he grabs a Post-It to mark where he’s at in the book, smiling once he closes it to show Steve that he’s got Bucky’s undivided attention.

Steve’s glaring down at him now. Bucky assumes it’s supposed to be intimidating, but Bucky’s known Steve since before he filled out, met the guy when he was a scrawny little asthmatic who used to pick fights with bullies, so he’s more amused than anything else.

“Spit it out, Rogers,” Bucky smirks, leaning back in his chair. Steve huffs out an exasperated sigh, then points to the dish towels Bucky bought while he was out grabbing some new Christmas decorations for their apartment that morning. They’re simple white towels with an illustration in black of a cookie jar and the words ‘I Put Out for Santa’ stenciled across each of them.

“Those are the most ridiculous fuckin’ towels I’ve ever seen,” Steve snaps. “Not to mention kind of gross.”

“Oh, Stevie,” Bucky bats his eyelashes, smiling up at his friend sweetly. “You’re not jealous are you?”

Steve blushes to the roots of his hair as he grits out, “No. I just think the towels are embarrassing is all.”

“Well, I think they’re funny,” Bucky challenges, smirking at the color flooding to his friend’s handsome face. Steve’s prettiest, Bucky thinks, when he blushes. “Besides, if any cute guys come to our Christmas party dressed as Santa Claus and see those towels, half my work will already be done.”

Steve glowers at Bucky as the brunet winks.

“Whatever,” the blond mumbles, stalking out of the kitchen, and Bucky winces a little when he hears their front door open and then slam shut. Bucky knows better than to follow Steve when he’s in a mood like this, but he can’t help feeling a little giddy about that reaction. Particularly the way Steve’s eyes had darkened at the mention of Bucky hooking up with other guys.

Sure, Bucky’d rather just _tell_ Steve that he’s into him. He’d rather not have to resort to goading his friend into action. But Bucky knows Steve better than anybody. And while Bucky’s been (pretty damn) sure that Steve wants to be more than his friend for a while now, he also knows exactly how the blond operates. Bucky knows that for this to work out the way he wants it to, Steve’s going to need to feel confident enough to make the first move. Steve hadn’t even come out as bisexual until last year, and Bucky doesn’t want to make Steve uncomfortable if he’s reading this whole situation wrong.

So, is he a complete shit for buying those towels and insinuating he’ll hook up with cute Santas at their party? Absolutely. But he’s a complete shit with high hopes and good intentions. So, God willing, this stupid plan will work.

 

* * *

 

The expression on Bucky’s face when he walks into their apartment the following evening and sees Steve sitting at their kitchen table decked out in a fitted Santa suit is possibly the best thing Steve’s ever seen.

There’s genuine surprise there, of course. But Steve also sees a hint of uncertainty mingled with hope in those stormy eyes that have been driving him crazy for years now. And desire. That’s there too, and it starts a fire low in Steve’s belly as the two of them eye each other up.

Steve stands from the table slowly, forcing himself to maintain eye contact with his friend despite the fact that he feels like he might faint.

“Steve-” Bucky begins, taking a deep breathe as his eyes sweep Steve’s frame- “That’s, uh, that’s a nice Santa getup you got there. Pardon the pun, but it suits you.”

“Thanks,” Steve replies as he starts toward the brunet, noting the way Bucky’s eyes track his movement. “I know our Christmas party’s not for a couple of weeks, but I thought I’d get your opinion on this. You know, since you like Santa so much.”

Steve backs Bucky up against one of the counters, placing a hand on either side of the burnet’s slim hips and caging him, but Bucky doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He leans forward, nuzzling his nose against Steve’s and it takes every ounce of Steve’s control not to kiss him right then, but he needs to talk to Bucky, needs to understand exactly what it’ll mean if he really puts himself out there.

“Good,” Bucky breathes. “You look good, Steve. Fuck, you always look so good.”

“You are unbelievable, you know that?” Steve growls, pushing a leg between Bucky’s thighs and grinding down, reveling in the low moan that escapes his friend. Bucky’s hands fly out to clutch Steve’s shoulders, and their pressure grounds Steve a little bit. “You buy these stupid fuckin’ towels and then you talk about other guys when you _know_ , you have to _know-”_

“Yeah,” Bucky gasps out as Steve’s hands move from the counter to grip his hips. “Fuck, Steve, of course I know. Well, I suspected. But I also know - _shit, Steve-_ ” Bucky hisses as Steve grinds down against him- “I also know that you’re a little skittish, and I wanted you to make the first move. I wanted to be sure you really did want me and that it wasn’t just wishful thinkin’ because-”

Steve pulls back a little, hands reaching up to cup Bucky’s face when he pauses. “Because what, Buck?”

“Because I want you, Steve,” Bucky breathes. “God, I want you so _much_. I always have.”

And that’s when Steve’s resolve snaps and he surges forward, capturing Bucky’s lips in a fierce kiss. Bucky leans into him, plush lips opening immediately, and Steve shudders as his friend’s tongue pushes past Steve’s lips. Bucky’s mouth is so warm and inviting against his own, and the way he kisses Steve like he needs it to breathe has desire curling low and demanding in his belly.

Bucky practically yelps when Steve lifts him, wrapping the brunet’s legs around his waist as he begins to walk them out of the kitchen.

“You fuckin’ show off,” Bucky laughs, leaning down to nip at Steve’s lips.

“Oh, like you’re not into it,” Steve scoffs, pausing to bite down a little harder than necessary on Bucky’s plush bottom lip. Bucky hips jerk against him as he shudders, a high-pitched whimper leaving his throat.

“Now-” Steve grins up at Bucky - “Considering what you did was a little underhanded, I think you’ll need to convince me that you don’t belong on my naughty list this year, _James.”_

“Oh, Santa, baby,” Bucky chuckles darkly, and Steve can’t stop the shiver that rolls through his body at the sensuous tone. “You take me to bed, and I’ll show you _exactly_ how naughty I can be.”

“That a promise?” Steve’s voice is a little too breathless already, but he can’t bring himself to care as Bucky rolls his hips forward, creating delicious friction between them.

“It’s a fuckin’ guarantee, doll.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to follow me or send a request via [tumblr](http://emphasisonem.tumblr.com/) or just pop it in the comments if you'd prefer.


	6. It's The Time for Play, It's a Whipped Cream Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re makin’ a mess of yourself, doll,” Bucky purrs, tilting his head upward to lick some icing from Steve’s jawline. The blond stills as Bucky’s tongue moves slowly over his smooth skin, shivering as Bucky bites down gently.
> 
> “So sweet, baby doll,” Bucky’s voice is low as he grins at Steve. “I think we both deserve a little treat for our efforts today, don’t you? Even if they were in vain.”
> 
>  
> 
> **In which the boys attempt a gingerbread house and it doesn't go quite as planned.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who was in the mood for shameless smut today? I'll give you a hint; it was me ;) 
> 
> Hope you guys like it!
> 
> The title's from the song "A Marshmallow World. Dean's got the [classic version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L15f1YwIZQE), of course, but if you're looking for something a little more contemporary, [Walk Off The Earth does a good job](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fn5Mn3MJZlk&list=PL38wVPLmqrEZlJ4fOQpK1YFH23txUHJnW). And hey, one of you was Kind enough to start a [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/creidhe/playlist/5DZ2VPj1mi9xKkReOqWJMP) of all the songs, so you guys should check that out for some holiday cheer.

“Aren’t you supposed to be good at shit like this?” Bucky sighs, looking down at the horrorshow before him, then over at his boyfriend. Steve’s blue eyes narrow as they meet Bucky’s, and the brunet knows a lot of people find that glare intimidating, but he just thinks it’s adorable. Steve might be an imposing figure to most with his broad shoulders and his well-defined muscles, but as far as Bucky’s concerned, the 6’2” blond is just a big ol’ teddy bear.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Steve huffs out, trying to squeeze icing onto a layer of their gingerbread house and making a mess of it. The gooey substance simply won’t stay put, dripping down the side of the wall, and Steve glowers at it, a sullen pout tugging at his lips. Truly, Bucky thinks, this man should not be so damn cute when he’s annoyed.

“Well, you’re the art teacher, Stevie,” Bucky rolls his eyes, smirking as Steve tosses the bag of icing onto the table, groaning and running a hand down his face in frustration. “I just sort of assumed that doing somethin’ crafty would be simple for ya, doll.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve sighs, his expression morose as he looks at the disaster on their kitchen table. “I’m not used to workin’ with food and apparently I suck at it, so. Sorry.”

“Oh, honey,” Bucky laughs, grabbing Steve’s hand and tugging his boyfriend until Steve’s standing right in front of him. “I didn’t mean to make you sad; I was just teasin’. Ain’t like I’m any better at this stuff. C’mere, sugar, give us a kiss. It’s just a gingerbread house.”

Steve grins at Bucky, leaning forward and capturing the brunet’s lips. Bucky smiles as Steve pulls back, smirking as he notes that Steve managed to get some icing on his face.

“You’re makin’ a mess of yourself, doll,” Bucky purrs, tilting his head upward to lick some icing from Steve’s jawline. The blond stills as Bucky’s tongue moves slowly over his smooth skin, shivering as Bucky bites down gently.

“So sweet, baby doll,” Bucky’s voice is low as he grins at Steve. “I think we both deserve a little treat for our efforts today, don’t you? Even if they were in vain.”

Bucky pushes Steve down into a kitchen chair, loving the way Steve’s breath starts to come a little quicker, the way his pupils begin to encroach on the blue of his irises as Bucky pulls Steve’s t-shirt over his head, then grabs the tube of icing and settles in Steve’s lap.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, hands gripping Bucky’s hips tight. “Yeah, I can get on board with that plan.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky knows exactly how to play Steve, knows all the buttons to get him pliant and begging beneath his hands, and Steve would be lying if he said he doesn’t love that. But then, he loves everything about Bucky.

If their kitchen was a mess before, it’s going to be a certified disaster now, but Steve can’t bring himself to care as Bucky squeezes some icing from the tube over his chest. The brunet tosses it back to the table, then ducks down and begins to lick it from Steve’s pecs, huffing out a laugh as Steve groans.

“Got the prettiest tits, doll,” Bucky purrs, then sucks a nipple into his mouth, humming as Steve’s hips buck up against him, then murmuring, “That’s it, doll baby, give it up for me. Tell me how bad you want it.”

“Buck,” Steve’s voice is breathless, already wrecked as Bucky kisses and sucks his way upward, biting down on Steve’s collarbone. “Baby, fuck, need you so bad.”

“Gonna need to do better than that, angel,” Bucky smirks, grinding down against Steve’s erection. “Come on, I know you got a filthy mouth, doll. So use it. Tell me how bad you want me sittin’ on your cock.”

“Jesus, Bucky,” Steve moans, his grip on Bucky’s hip tightening as Bucky’s lips work their way along the curve of his neck, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. “Baby, you know I always want it. Wanna fuck you so deep you feel it for days. You want it too, I know it. So greedy for my cock, baby. Never seen anybody take it as good as you; you fuckin’ love bein’ stretched around me don’t you?”

“Steve,” Bucky breathes, and the blond is gratified to hear the first note of desperation in his boyfriend’s voice. Bucky usually starts out in charge, cool and collected as he works Steve into a frenzy, but Steve knows exactly the words that’ll make Bucky weak for him, and he has no shame in taking advantage of the other man. Not when he knows how badly Bucky wants it, how much he enjoys this. “God, _please.”_

“Yeah, you’re greedy for it,” Steve growls, threading his finger through Bucky’s long dark hair and tugging until Bucky’s neck is exposed. Bucky whines as Steve licks a slow, wet stripe up his neck, biting down hard when he reaches Bucky’s jaw. “Always wantin’ some. I’ll give it to you, baby. I’ll fill you up right here. You want it, Buck? You want it drippin’ out of you while I make you come?”

Bucky keens as Steve tugs harder on his hair, shivering as he nods.

“Nah, sweetheart, gotta use your words,” Steve whispers as he leans in to nip at Bucky’s earlobe. “Gotta tell me what you want.”

“Steve, please,” Bucky gasps, trembling in Steve’s arms. “Need you so bad, doll. Need you inside me. God, Steve, need you to fuck me. _Please.”_

“Yeah, all right,” Steve grins before leaning in to kiss Bucky, lazy and languid. “Go get the lube; I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Bucky snorts out a laugh, shaking his head as he extricates himself from Steve’s lap, a little shaky on his feet as he rummages through one of the kitchen drawers, searching for the lubricant they keep buried under the junk. Really, they should be embarrassed that they have to keep a bottle in most rooms of the apartment, but Steve can’t help grinning as Bucky crows triumphantly when he finds it.

“Better get those clothes off before you climb back into my lap,” Steve’s eyes trail along Bucky’s leanly muscled body, fingers twitching at his sides. “Be kinda tough to maneuver those jeans of yours off in this position. You wear ‘em too tight.”

“Like you don’t love my tight jeans,” Bucky smirks, pulling his t-shirt off slow, giving Steve a show. “And I know your game, Rogers. You just like watchin’ me.”

“Of course I do,” Steve sighs, content as Bucky begins to shimmy out of his jeans. “Who the fuck wouldn’t? You’re beautiful, sweetheart.”

“Butterin’ me up like I’m not gonna ride you until I can’t see straight,” Bucky giggles. “Such a romantic, Rogers.”

“Only because I love you,” Steve laughs, standing and capturing Bucky’s lips in a quick kiss. “Now, lean over the table, baby. Be easier for me to open you up like this.”

“I’m gonna get icing all over me, Steve,” Bucky smirks, eyes narrowed as he looks over his shoulder, bending slowly and _fuck_ , Steve has no idea how he got so lucky.

“I’ll clean you up later, baby,” Steve smirks, liking the way Bucky gasps as Steve drops to his knees , thumbs spreading Bucky’s cheeks wide. “But I kinda wanna make a mess of you right now.”

 

* * *

 

The first swipe of Steve’s tongue against Bucky’s puckered hole is heaven and he can’t stop the shudder that rolls through his body as he moans.

“God, so good, baby,” Steve sighs as he pulls back, nipping at an ass cheek before he begins to tongue Bucky open in earnest. Thank god for the table because Bucky’s knees give immediately. His elbows crush part of the gingerbread house as he leans forward, jagged pieces of cookie biting into his arms, but he can’t bring himself to care as Steve sucks gently at his entrance, then laps at the sensitive skin.

“Steve,” Bucky groans, grinding back against his boyfriend’s mouth. “Fuck, doll, just like that. Love it when you get me all wet.”

Steve hums against him and Bucky trembles as the vibrations roll against him. A high-pitched whine escapes him as Steve pulls back. The blond stands, coats the fingers of one hand with lube, and slowly slides a finger past the tight ring of muscle.

“Fuck,” Bucky whimpers as Steve crooks his finger, lingering against Bucky’s prostate. Bucky’s seeing stars as his hips stutter, his hands clenched tight on the edge of the table, knuckles white with the effort of keeping himself upright. “Stevie, _please.”_

“That’s it, honey,” Steve croons by his ear, and Bucky can hear the smug smile in the blond’s voice as he adds a second finger, scissoring gently. “Give it to me, come on. Want you beggin’ for my cock.”

“Stevie, need you,” Bucky groans, breath coming in whistling gasps as Steve takes him apart. “Come on, doll, let me sit on it. Want you in me, _please._ ”

Bucky groans as Steve slides his fingers out, then sighs with relief when he hears Steve fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans. He can’t keep from smiling as Steve turns him around. The blond settles into the chair, grinning up at Bucky like he hung the goddamn stars in the sky.

“You wanna sit on it so bad, baby, come on,” Steve chuckles. “Grab that whipped cream on the table while you’re at it.”

Bucky hands it to Steve without a word, then begins the task of straddling Steve and taking his cock inch by mind-blowing inch.

 

* * *

 

Bucky sinks onto Steve with a sigh, rolling his hips a little to adjust, and it takes every ounce of Steve restraint not to fuck up into him.

“Fuck, Steve,” Bucky huffs. “God, baby you feel so good.”

“Mmm, you too, honey,” Steve hums, hips thrusting upward gently. Steve’s rewarded with a low moan as Bucky begins to rock his hips.

“You’re so good for me, Bucky,” Steve breathes, cupping Bucky’s cheek and kissing him slow and deep. Steve loves it when Bucky’s like this, so hot for him but not desperate enough to rush them toward climax. “You want a treat, honey?”

Bucky nods as he gasps, swiveling his hips in a way that has Steve fighting for air. Steve smiles, spraying a glob of whipped cream on two of his fingers, then extending them to Bucky.

“Go on, then,” Steve breathes. “It’s all yours. Show me how good that mouth of yours is, baby.”

Bucky surges forward, sucking the digits into his mouth, and Steve groans, hips jerking as Bucky’s tongue works his fingers, dropping the cannister because he knows if he keeps letting the brunet suck whipped cream from the digits he’ll be coming way too soon.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve rasps as Bucky pulls off with a pop. “You’re so fuckin’ hot, you know that? Come on, beautiful, show me what you got. Ride me like I know you want to.”

Bucky barks out a laugh and then he’s pulling up off of Steve’s cock so that just the tip is still inside him. Steve shouts as Bucky slams back down, a wicked glint in his eye.

“Come on, Rogers, keep up,” Bucky challenges, a smirk playing at his plush lips. “Or you gonna make me do all the work as usual?”

The sound that rips from Steve’s throat isn’t quite a growl but it’s close. Steve leans forward, biting down on Bucky’s collarbone as he fucks up into the brunet. He’s more than a little gratified by the broken scream that leaves Bucky’s lips, the way he shudders as they move together. There’s some icing on Bucky’s chest and Steve licks it off, enjoying the sweet taste mixed with the salty tang of Bucky’s skin.

“Steve,” Bucky sobs out, cheeks wet with tears as he bounces on Steve’s cock, but Steve knows they’re the good kind of tears, knows Bucky would tell him if this was too much. “Stevie, please. I need- I _need-”_

“Tell me, sweetheart,” Steve groans, shaking as Bucky’s walls clench around him. “Come on, gotta use your words. Tell me what you need, Buck.”

“Need to c-come,” Bucky’s shaking like a leaf now, every move desperate as he jerks against Steve. “Baby, please, please, I-I _need_ it.”

“Christ, Buck,” Steve kisses Bucky, all tongue and teeth as he grips Bucky’s cock. “You gonna come for me, angel? Come on, wanna feel you, baby. Want you to make a mess of both of us.”

“Fuck,” Bucky cries out, hands so tight on Steve’s shoulders that the blond wonders if they’ll leave bruises. “Oh, fuck, oh god, _Steve_.”

And then Bucky’s coming hot and wet between the two of them, seed spilling over Steve’s hand and onto their stomachs as he rides Steve and the blond is seeing white as Bucky’s muscles clench around his cock. He’s so fucking close now-

“Come on, Steve,” Bucky gasps as he shudders in the blond’s arms. “Come for me, doll. Wanna feel it, baby, want you to fill me up.”

“Shit,” Steve hisses through clenched teeth, fucking into Bucky harder until he comes with a shout of the brunet’s name, shivering through the orgasm as Bucky holds him.

 

* * *

 

Bucky slumps against Steve, hardly registering the blond softening inside of him or the mess splashed across their stomachs. He peppers kisses along Steve’s shoulder, working his way up Steve’s neck until they’re kissing, slow and lazy.

“God, I love you,” Bucky giggles as he pulls back, running gentle fingers through Steve’s hair. “But you completely ruined our gingerbread house, Rogers.”

Steve snorts as he rests his forehead against Bucky’s, thumbs tracing slow circles against Bucky’s hips. “Not the only thing I ruined.”

“Cocky son of a bitch,” Bucky laughs, kissing the tip of Steve’s nose.

“You love it,” Steve grins as Bucky begins to lift himself up, holding on to Steve as he stands on shaky legs. “And it’s not really cocky if you’re havin’ trouble keepin’ yourself upright when I’m through with you, love.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky shakes his head, unable to keep from smiling. “Come on, let’s you and me grab a shower and we’ll deal with this catastrophe later, all right?”

Steve nods as he stands, grabbing Bucky’s hand and pulling him into another languid kiss. Bucky sighs against Steve’s lips as the blond’s arms wrap around him.

“Love you, sweetheart,” Steve whispers, eyes soft as he looks down at Bucky, and god, Bucky’s heart is so full right now he thinks it might burst.

“Love you too, doll.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Requests are welcome via [tumblr](http://emphasisonem.tumblr.com/%22) or the comments.


	7. For We Need a Little Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can take some of it down,” Steve grumbles, pushing himself up off the couch and moving to rummage through one of the boxes. “But I do have one decoration I’m not budgin’ on.”
> 
> Bucky’s eyes narrow at the greenery Steve’s holding as the blond makes his way back to the couch, standing in front of Bucky with a triumphant smile on his face. 
> 
> “Is that mistletoe?” Bucky snorts. “C’mon, how cheesy can you get, Rogers?”
> 
> **In which Bucky comes home to find that Christmas has thrown up in his apartment.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one on the shorter side since it was a much busier day than I anticipated, but I think this one's pretty sweet :) Hope you all enjoy it. 
> 
> Title from "We Need a Little Christmas." I'm a big ol' musical theater nerd, so I like [the version from Mame](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lb9OVjlEZho) best (because, hello, Angela Lansbury is a goddamn queen), but I also dig the [Percy Faith Orchestra version.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LsT2CrZHHJ0)

“Oh, holy shit,” Bucky murmurs as he steps through the apartment door after a long day at the office, a hand tangling in his dark hair as he gazes wide-eyed at the living room. He’s honestly having a hard time processing it all - the fake snow on every available flat surface, the garlands hanging from the mantel, the Dickens Village set sitting atop it.

There are several wreaths hanging on the walls, all of them deep green with red and gold ribbons and ornaments decorating them. A small-ish tree stands in one corner, not yet decorated, but glowing with gentle white lights. Delicate paper snowflakes hang from the ceiling, the fishing wire holding them up just visible in the glimmer of even more string lights hanging from the rafters.

Bucky looks down the hall just in time to see a slender pair of legs peeking out from beneath a couple of boxes as they head toward the living room, obscuring someone who can only be his roommate. Bucky waits until Steve sets them down with a quiet grunt before deadpanning, “Busy day, Steve?”

The short, slim blond looks up, startled until he registers that it’s just Bucky. And then there’s a wide smile breaking across Steve’s face like there’s nobody else in the world he’d rather see than Bucky, and the brunet’s heart is suddenly doing handsprings in his chest. It doesn’t help that Steve’s wearing one of Bucky’s old sweaters, one that slips toward his shoulder to reveal an enticing patch of fair skin.

Steve had moved into Bucky’s spacious apartment after going through a nasty breakup with a guy Bucky had know was trouble from day one- Brad or Butch or something like that. It was originally a temporary measure, but Bucky’s grown so used to having his best friend around that he routinely encourages Steve not to rush into finding a new apartment. It does not, Bucky constantly lies to himself, have anything to do with the fact that he’s been harboring feelings for his friend for years now.

Regardless of Bucky’s motives, Steve’s clearly fine with taking his time looking for a new place considering they’ve been living together for nearly eight months now.

Of course, Bucky had kind of forgotten how enamored his friend is with Christmas. It hadn’t even occurred to Bucky that Steve would decorate the apartment without mentioning it first, but then Steve’s always been the type that finds it easier to ask forgiveness than permission, so Bucky’s not really surprised.

“Interesting,” Bucky continues, voice even and matter-of-fact as he walks toward his friend. “How you waited until you had a day off so you could do this while I wasn’t around.”

“Aw, c’mon, Bucky,” Steve’s sunny, slightly crooked smile is so goddamn endearing it’s almost unbearable, but Bucky simply crosses his arms over his chest and glares down at the blond. “Look, I know you think it’s too much, but I just thought it’d be nice to get you into the Christmas spirit for a change.”

“Steve,” Bucky sighs, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s been a long day and I really-”

“Need to relax,” Steve nods, pushing Bucky in the direction of the bedrooms. “Go, get changed. I’ll make you a drink and we’ll chat, all right?”

Bucky grumbles but shuffles off to his room without further argument to replace his slacks and button up with woolen socks, thick sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. He wanders back out into the living room and flops onto the couch, eyeing Steve suspiciously as the blond slips back into the living room, a steaming mug topped with a generous dollop of whipped cream in his hands.

“Is this a holiday beverage?” Bucky asks, frowning down at the mug even though it smells delicious.

“God, just say ‘Bah humbug!’ and get it over with already,” Steve laughs as he settles onto the sofa, sitting cross-legged beside Bucky. “It’s hot chocolate spiked with peppermint schnapps. You like peppermint, and you look like you could use the booze, pal.”

Bucky glares at Steve as he takes a sip, unable to stop a pleased little moan from escaping him. Bucky licks the excess whipped cream from his lips, and it’s hard to tell in the dim light, but Bucky swears Steve’s eyes follow the motion of his tongue.

“All right, so it’s good,” Bucky huffs, annoyed by the smug smile on Steve’s face. “But, Steve, this is _so much_.” Bucky gestures around the room with his free hand, pouting as he does so.

“I can take some of it down,” Steve grumbles, pushing himself up off the couch and moving to rummage through one of the boxes. “But I do have one decoration I’m not budgin’ on.”

Bucky’s eyes narrow at the greenery Steve’s holding as the blond makes his way back to the couch, standing in front of Bucky with a triumphant smile on his face.

“Is that mistletoe?” Bucky snorts. “C’mon, how cheesy can you get, Rogers?”

“Oh, right like you wouldn’t want an excuse to kiss somebody you find attractive,” Steve smirks, holding the sprig out to Bucky. The brunet takes it, a small smile forming on his lips as he glances back up at Steve.

“Maybe I would like an excuse,” Bucky stands, liking the way Steve’s breath hitches a little as he moves into the blond’s space, holding the mistletoe above their heads. “What do you think, Stevie? Should we try it out? Make sure it ain’t faulty?”

“Bucky, I-” Steve blinks up at him, those sapphire of his so surprised, so vulnerable. “Are you bein’ serious right now or are you just messin’ with me?”

“Steve, god,” Bucky huffs out a laugh as he wraps an arm around the blond’s nearly nonexistent waist. “You’ve been livin’ with me for months now. Why do you think I never bring anybody home anymore? Why do you think I keep tellin’ you to put off movin’ out? I _want_ you. Here. With me.”

“I didn’t-” Steve stammers. “You never said anythin’, and I-”

“Yeah, well, I’m sayin’ somethin’ now, Stevie,” Bucky murmurs, leaning ever closer. “So, what do you think? You wanna kiss me under the mistletoe or should I just forget the whole thing?”

There’s a moment of silence between them, and for one heart-stopping second, Bucky thinks telling Steve how he feels is the biggest mistake he’s ever made.

But then Steve’s grabbing the collar of his sweatshirt, yanking Bucky down into a soft, sweet kiss.

“Took you long enough,” Steve giggles as he pulls back, pink staining his cheeks as he smiles up at Bucky. “I was wonderin’ if you were ever gonna make a move or if the way you look at me now was all in my head.”

“I suppose you think this means you get to keep these ridiculous Christmas decorations up now,” Bucky smirks, cradling the back of Steve’s head in his hand, playing with the fine blond hair at the nape of his neck. The grin that stretches across Steve’s features is one Bucky’s never seen before, slow and almost predatory. He pushes Bucky until the taller man sits on the couch, breathless as Steve crawls into his lap.

“I believe if you give me a chance-” Steve purrs, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s neck and nuzzling his nose against the brunet’s- “I can convince you to let me.”

“By all means, Rogers-” Bucky rasps, shivering as Steve’s breath ghosts over his lips- “Give it a shot.”

And as Steve kisses him, tongue pushing past Bucky’s lips as his hands travel down Bucky’s body, the brunet knows all the decorations are going to be staying right where they are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading and thank you for all the encouragement! Requests can be submitted via [tumblr](http://emphasisonem.tumblr.com/) or in the comments :)


	8. All I Want For Christmas Is You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do me a favor, Rogers,” Bucky leans forward, tapping gently on Steve’s temple as he smirks, gray eyes sparkling with amusement. “Use that pretty little head of yours to come up with somethin’ more excitin’ if you pull my name outta the hat this year, all right?”
> 
> **In which the boys get each other for the office Secret Santa.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this sugary bit of fluff doesn't give you guys any cavities, but I can't make any promises :) Hope you like it! 
> 
> And I mean, you all know the certified holiday bop ["All I Want For Christmas Is You,"](), but if you're looking for a slower take on the holiday classic, Michael Bublé has [got you covered.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AB7fEnWyZ1k)

“Rogers,” Bucky tosses the first draft of his column onto Steve’s desk, adding to the litter of papers, styrofoam coffee cups and protein bar wrappers with a grin. “Here’s the copy you wanted. Be gentle with me for once in your life, will ya? It’s almost Christmas.”

“Christmas ain’t an excuse to get sloppy, Barnes,” Steve huffs, but he’s smiling as he looks up at the other man. Partly because Bucky’s the best sportswriter they’ve got and his columns are always a joy to read. Partly because Steve’s got the biggest, dumbest crush on the guy and no idea what to do about it.

“Geez, but you’re a Scrooge, Steve,” Bucky chuckles, pushing a stack of papers to the side and settling against the edge of Steve’s desk. Steve takes a moment to admire the other man’s easy grace, the way his lean, lithe body folds in a little as he relaxes. “I feel sorry for whoever you get for the office Secret Santa this year. Probably buy ‘em a new AP Style Guide and a copy of the dictionary. You copy editors are fuckin’ ruthless, I tell ya.”

“Well, clearly _you_ need a new copy,” Steve teases as he considers buying one for the brunet as a joke. Bucky laughs, head thrown back to expose the elegant line of his throat. Steve wonders, not for the first time, how it would feel to trail kisses up along Bucky’s neck to his stubble-covered jawline.

“Do me a favor, Rogers,” Bucky leans forward, tapping gently on Steve’s temple as he smirks, gray eyes sparkling with amusement. “Use that pretty little head of yours to come up with somethin’ more excitin’ if you pull my name outta the hat this year, all right?”

Steve can feel a flush creeping down his neck as he huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, sure. I’ll get you _The Elements of Style_. Shame they only focus on writing.”

Steve allows his gaze to trail the length of Bucky’s body as though he’s critiquing the other man’s wardrobe. And yeah, the dark wash jeans with a hole in the knee, a threadbare sweater and scuffed leather boots are hardly what _Steve_ would consider office appropriate, but they have a lax dress code at the _Gazette_ and it’s honestly just an excuse to check Bucky out.

“Rogers, please,” Bucky crosses his arms over his chest as he grins down at Steve. “You know I have backup jeans and a button-up in my desk in case of an interview. Besides, if I dressed to my full potential, you’d be too busy starin’ to get any work done.”

“That sounds an awful lot like a challenge,” Steve quips, leaning back in his chair. “Oughta put your money where your mouth is, Buck.”

“Holiday party’s comin’ up, pal,” Bucky chuckles as he pushes himself from Steve’s desk. “It’ll be the first time you get to see how good I clean up. You missed last year’s, didn’t you? They hired you to start after New Year’s if I’m rememberin’ right.”

“Cocky son of a bitch,” Steve shakes his head. “And yeah, this’ll be my first holiday party. Now get outta here, or I’ll never have enough time to edit this mess before we go to press.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky leaves the copy editors’ section and walks back to his own cubicle in sports, smiling as he replays the interaction he’s just had with Steve in his head. It’s taken months, but the two of them are finally something close to friends. If the way Steve blushes when Bucky shamelessly flirts with him is any indication, maybe they could be more. The teasing back is a relatively new development, and Bucky’d be lying if he said he wasn’t into it.

Of course, Steve’s been sassing him on paper for ages now, leaving snarky little comments with smiley faces in the margins of Bucky’s copy, but the blond’s on the shy side when it comes to actual interactions with people. It’s been a joy to watch Steve open up, to get comfortable around him. And not just because Bucky’s hopelessly gone on the tall, broad-shouldered blond.

Bucky settles into his desk chair to review the box scores of a couple hockey games while he waits for Steve’s corrections, only half-seeing the information as he ruminates on Steve’s pretty blue eyes and his kind smile. He’s so lost in thought that Sam Wilson from the Arts & Entertainment section actually has to poke Bucky before he snaps to attention.

“Daydreamin’ about your favorite again, Barnes,” Sam’s smile is sly as Bucky blinks up at him. “You know all you gotta do is ask me to put a good word in for you. I am friends with the guy and the reason he’s currently at this publication. And I can’t imagine he’d be opposed if he knew you were into him.”

“Right, like I trust you, Wilson,” Bucky rolls his eyes as he stretches. “What brings a cultured gentleman such as yourself over to the sports section?”

“I come bearing names for Secret Santa,” Sam explains, holding out a ratty old baseball cap filled with pieces of paper. Bucky reaches forward and plucks a piece out, unable to keep the wide smile from his face as he reads Steve’s name.

“Well, look at  that,” Sam chuckles. “Finally have a chance to impress the guy with somethin’ other than your dazzling dissertations on the sports teams in this city.”

“You and I are gettin’ lunch sometime next week,” Bucky calls as Sam strides away, still laughing. “I need to pick that marvelous brain of yours for gift ideas.”

“Long as you’re payin’” Sam shouts back, and Bucky sinks back against his chair, swiveling around and giggling like a fucking twelve year old as he wonders what Steve Rogers would like for Christmas.

 

* * *

 

“Secret Santa time!” a voice rings out later that afternoon.

Steve looks up from Bucky’s column (which is near-perfect, as always), grinning at the bouncing redhead before him. Natasha smiles brightly, extending a baseball cap full of little pieces of paper. Steve’s thrilled to see the petite foreign correspondent is home for the holidays; she’s been traveling around Europe for the past couple months, covering the increase in various nationalist movements across the continent.

“Forgot how excited you get for this, Nat,” Steve chuckles, reaching into the hat and snagging a scrap of paper. Natasha looks at him expectantly and Steve chuckles, “What?”

“Who’d you get?!”  Natasha exclaims, nearly overturning the hat as she tosses her hands into the air. Steve laughs, shaking his head as Natasha’s green eyes glare at him fixedly.

“I can’t tell you,” Steve says. “Besides, what if it’s you? It’ll ruin the surprise.”

Natasha groans, “Just open the paper, Rogers. You know who I’m hoping it’ll be. If it’s not him you don’t need to tell me, god.”

Steve can feel the heat rising to his face as he ducks his head and hisses, “Knock it off. Jesus, you know how gossipy this place is. Full of fuckin’ reporters who love nothin’ more than to gab.  Last thing I need is anybody knowin’ I have a crush.”

“I mean, if you wanna pretend the entire office doesn’t know how bad you want Barnes, by all means, Steve, go right ahead,” Natasha chuckles. “Now open the fucking piece of paper and put me out of my misery.”

Steve sighs, smoothing out the crinkled scrap. There in neat block print is the name _James Barnes_ , and Steve just about swallows his tongue.

“Fuck,” Steve holds out the piece of paper, dropping his head into his hands as Natasha takes it from him with a squeal. “Fuck me, what am I gonna get him? I can’t make it weird; I have to work with him all the time.”

“Have to work with who all the time?” Maria Hill, another of the sports writers Steve works with saunters up to the desk with a grin. “Steve, you look like you’re about to faint. Did Bucky finally ask you out?”

“Oh my god,” Steve groans. “It is not _like that_.”

“Right, sure,” Maria rolls her eyes as she glances over at Natasha with a smile. “He’s not into you at all. That’s why he’s at your desk all the time.”

“I’m his copy editor!” Steve exclaims, waving his arms in the air as the two women giggle.

“You’re my copy editor too, Steve,” Maria gasps, wiping tears from her eyes. “But I don’t sit on the edge of your desk and flirt with you every day. ”

“If you guys are done torturing me, I really do need to get back to editing Buck’s column,” Steve sighs. “And trying to figure out what the fuck to get him for Christmas.”

 

* * *

 

“I think we might actually pull this off,” Natasha grins as she sits down at a table in the kitchen, green eyes flitting between Sam and Maria as they settle in for a quick coffee break. “They don’t seem to suspect a thing.”

“Of course they don’t,” Sam chuckles, tossing an arm across the back of Maria’s chair. “They both wanted the other for Secret Santa so badly that it would never occur to them that we’d rig it.”

“Did you dump all those papers in the shredder?” Maria asks her boyfriend. “Because if either of them finds all those scraps with just their names on them,  they’re gonna know something’s up. Granted, I don’t think Bucky’ll give a shit, but Steve might combust if he knows we’re meddling.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Natasha smirks. “All the evidence has been destroyed. I made sure of it.”

“I think you mighta been a spy in your past life, Red,” Sam snickers. “So devious.”

“How do you think I get so many scoops, Wilson?” Natasha asks with a smirk as she takes a sip of her hot beverage, mentally congratulating herself and her friends on a job well done.

 

* * *

 

Steve’s a nervous wreck as he heads back to the office the night of the paper’s holiday party. The gift exchange, Sam had explained, takes place in the news section each year, and once it’s finished everybody walks together to the restaurant where they have the party.

“And remember, it’s the one time of year everybody gets dolled up,” Sam had smirked. “So make sure you look nice. I know you got somebody to impress.”

Steve’s glad he’d settled on a navy three-piece suit and a crisp white button-up. A nice striped tie had been a given, and Steve had decided on a pocket square at the last minute, the fabric peeking jauntily from his breast pocket. He’d been afraid he’d overdone it as he’d left his apartment, but most of the men are dressed similarly.

Steve situates himself in a quiet corner after placing Bucky’s gift in the designated pile, keeping an eye out for his friends as he watches his colleagues mill around. He nearly jumps out of his skin as a low, raspy voice startles him from his thoughts.

“Good lord, Rogers-” Bucky’s smirking when Steve turns around, eyes widening as he takes in the brunet. “Ain’t you a sight.”

Steve tries to answer Bucky, to say thank you, to compliment him, but he’s apparently lost the ability to form words. Bucky is standing in front of him, his longish, dark hair slicked back, looking absolutely mouth-watering in a fucking _tuxedo._ Gone is the man’s perpetual five o’clock shadow, and Steve’s sort of mesmerized by the smooth skin of Bucky’s sharp jawline.

When Steve looks back up, there’s a Cheshire-cat grin on Bucky’s handsome face as he says, “Told you I clean up good, Steve.”

And Steve would love to respond, really he would, but Bucky’s standing so close to him now, and he smells so good, and there’s just no way for Steve to think clearly at the moment. So, when Natasha pops up next to them with her boyfriend, Clint, Steve’s fairly relieved because he thinks if he’d been given a minute more, he might have done something asinine. Like lean forward to close the gap between his lips and Bucky’s.

“Happy holidays, boys,” Natasha grins, winking at Steve. “Don’t you two look cute together.”

Steve has no doubt his face is crimson as Bucky laughs, moving to stand next to him, so close that their sides are pressed up against each other. “I think the word you’re looking for is debonair, Nat. Or maybe ravishing.”

Bucky turns to Steve with a soft smile, and Steve’s heart is trip-hammering in his chest because maybe Natasha and Maria and Sam are right. Maybe it _is_ like that between them because friends don’t look at friends the way Bucky’s looking at Steve right now.

At least, Steve doesn’t _think_ they do.

“Definitely ravishing,” Steve grins, pleased at the evenness of his voice and the laugh he surprises out of Bucky. The brunet bumps his hip against Steve’s, the playful glint in his steely eyes leaving Steve a little breathless.

“All right, all right,” a deep, gruff voice shouts over the din of voices just as Sam and Maria slink into the room, making a beeline for their group. Steve doesn’t miss the way their eyes zero in on him and Bucky, small smiles playing at their lips, and he nearly groans aloud because he’s _never_ going to hear the end of this.

Chester Phillips, the managing editor of the _Gazette_ is waiting for the room to quiet, and Steve thinks he sees the ghost of a grin on the man’s stony face. “Glad you could all take time out of your busy schedules for this. God knows we don’t already see enough of each other.”

The crowd chuckles as Phillips is joined by Nick Fury, their editor-in-chief.

“The gift exchange is a tradition that stretches back as far as the founding of this paper,” Fury booms, his gaze a little softer than usual as he surveys the room. “And it looks like you’re all itchin’ to get started so we can get out of here and get to what really matters to any respectable newspaper employee. Alcohol.”

“Here, here,” Bucky shouts over the raucous cheers, wrapping an arm around Steve’s shoulders. Steve tells himself he’s only placing an arm at the small of Bucky’s back because it’s probably the most comfortable way for the two of them to stand.

“Ms. Romanoff, if you please,” Fury says, and the redhead makes her way up to the front of the room, garnering quite a lot of attention from the men in the room, as well as a number of the women in a slinky black dress and platform heels. Steve glances over at Clint, who’s simply beaming as he watches his girlfriend make her way to the gifts.

Natasha begins to call out names, handing over gifts with a wide smile as her colleagues make their way up. Once everyone’s got their boxes and bags, she instructs them to go ahead and open them.

Steve tears into the gold paper wrapped around a fairly large but slender box, eyes widening as he takes in the set of very nice watercolor paints and brushes. There’s a small card taped to the front of the box and Steve opens it swiftly.

_Your friend Sam tells me you’re quite the artist, Rogers. I’d love to see your work sometime. Open the box for a second surprise. Merry Christmas- Bucky._

Steve carefully opens the box, grinning as he sees two tickets to the Dodger 2017 home opener nestled near the brushes.

“Box seats,” Steve breathes, meeting Bucky’s eyes with a smile. “Jesus, Buck, this is an awful lot, ain’t it?”

“You deserve it,” Bucky grins, looking up shyly through dark lashes. “Best copy editor I’ve ever had, and I know baseball’s your favorite.”

“Thank you, Bucky,” Steve smiles. “This is perfect. Better open yours, though. Don’t wanna hold us up now, do ya?”

Bucky laughs, delving into the gift bag and tearing through the tissue paper to get at the gifts below. He finds the card first, grinning when he recognizes Steve’s hand on the envelope.

“You mind if I read the card in a sec?” Bucky asks. “Because I’m dyin’ to see what you came up with.”

“It’s your gift,” Steve laughs, clapping the brunet on the shoulder. “You go about it however you want.”

The first thing Bucky pulls out is a soft, gray cashmere sweater, humming as he feels the soft material. “Tryin’ to class me up, huh?”

“Maybe a little,” Steve smirks. “Keep goin’.”

Steve’s afraid Bucky’s going to choke when he pulls out the AP Style Guide for 2017, he’s laughing so hard. “You little shit, I swear to god. I cannot _believe_ you.”

“Get a hold of yourself, Barnes,” Steve giggles, loving the way Bucky’s eyes are shining. “Got one more thing in there.”

Bucky goes back to digging around in the bag, eyes widening as he pulls out a pennant encased in thick plastic wrap.

“I didn’t have time to get a frame, but-” Steve begins, but he’s interrupted as Bucky sets down his gifts and launches himself at Steve, strong arms wrapping tightly around Steve’s midsection.

“You are-” Bucky huffs, and Steve nearly shivers at the warm breath caressing his neck- “Absolutely fuckin’ unbelievable. Where in Christ’s name did you get a ‘61 Yankees World Series pennant signed by the whole fuckin’ team?”

“I have a few connections,” Steve chuckles, pulling back a little to look down at Bucky. “And I know they’re your favorite. You talk about Mantle and Maris enough.”

“Rogers, I-” Bucky looks like he might cry as he reads the message scrawled inside the card- _To my favorite writer, A little style for you, your writing and your cubicle wall. Merry Christmas, Steve_ \- then meets Steve’s eyes. “Jesus, _thank you_.”

“You’re welcome,” Steve murmurs, disappointed as Bucky detaches himself and steps back. “I guess, uh, I guess we should pop these in our desks and get goin’, then?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says with a grin, scooping up his presents. “Thank god we have drawers that lock, otherwise I’d never let this thing outta my sight.”

 

* * *

 

“Did you see them?” Maria giggles as she stands with Sam, Natasha and Clint at the open bar later that night. “My god, it worked. Although, I was sort of hoping they’d kiss.”

“Who are you talkin’ about?” Bucky turns toward them, a drink in hand as he surveys his three coworkers- all of whom look very sheepish- and Natasha’s boyfriend. Clint looks like he’s just received the best Christmas gift of all time as he grins.

“Oh, man, you guys were doin’ so good,” Clint snickers. “They really did have no idea you rigged Secret Santa.”

“You did what now?” Bucky bleats, an incredulous smile spreading across his face.

“All right, look-” Natasha giggles, clearly a little tipsy as she places a hand on Bucky’s arm- “The three of us _might_ have made sure the two of you got each other for the gift exchange. And considering the gifts you got, Barnes, I don’t think you have any room to complain.”

“I’m not complanin’, Nat,” Bucky laughs, taking a quick sip of his whiskey soda. “But why on earth did you bother settin’ that up?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sam smirks, tilting his head toward Steve as the blond strides toward them. “You should go talk to Steve, Barnes. Haven’t you guys been dancin’ around this thing long enough?”

Bucky blinks, a little surprised, then says, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess we have. Excuse me for a minute, won’t you?”

Bucky makes a beeline for Steve, grabbing his arm and leading him from the banquet room despite Steve’s protests that he was heading to the bar for another drink.

“I’ll get you another drink in a sec, Rogers,” Bucky grins over his shoulder, trying not to giggle at Steve’s furrowed brow. “Right now you and I need to have a quick chat about our colleagues.”

“What about ‘em?” Steve questions as Bucky pulls him into the coat room, eyes widening as Bucky edges into his space. “Buck, what is this?”

“Did you know-” Bucky asks with a grin- “That they rigged the Secret Santa so that you and I would get each other?”

Steve’s lips part on an indignant huff, glaring toward the door. “Of course, they fuckin’ did.  Christ, I oughta kill ‘em.”

“Steve,” Bucky grabs the blond’s chin, forcing those gorgeous sapphire eyes to meet his own. “Tell me why they would do that. I have an idea, but I wanna make sure I’m right before I do somethin’ stupid.”

“Somethin’-” Steve stammers as Bucky presses his body up against the blond’s, fingers gripping Steve’s slim hips- “Somethin’ stupid?”

“Answer me, Steve,” Bucky demands, but he can’t help smiling as Steve’s eyes drift to his mouth, longing evident in his gaze.

“Well, they-” Steve sputters, a pink flush suffusing his cheeks with color as his eyes dart back and forth from Bucky’s eyes to his lips. “I mean, they know that I… well, that I have kind of a crush on you, I guess?”

“You guess?” Bucky chuckles, nuzzling his nose against Steve’s. “Come on, Steve, you can do better than that. Just say what you feel.”

“I like you,” Steve blurts out, hands finding the lapels of Bucky’s jacket. “I like you so goddamn much, and I- I _want_ you, and-”

And Bucky’d be happy to let Steve finish that sentence, but he’s pretty sure if he doesn’t kiss the other man right this second, he’ll combust. Bucky leans up, lips just barely brushing Steve’s own, waiting for the blond to decide what happens next.

Bucky groans as Steve presses forward, slotting their lips together, his warm, broad hands moving up to tangle in Bucky’s hair as he kisses the brunet deeply. Steve takes advantage of Bucky’s open mouth, curling his tongue against Bucky’s own, and _Christ_ , if Bucky’s seeing stars now he can hardly wait to find out how it feels when Steve slides into him. Bucky can’t help the desperate little whines and whimpers escaping from the back of his throat, and Steve’s laughing when he pulls back.

“Shoulda figured you for a noisy lover,” the blond giggles, brushing a stray strand of Bucky’s dark hair away from his forehead. “Considering how you never shut the fuck up.”

Bucky barks out a laugh, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder for a moment before asking, “That gonna be a deal breaker for you, Steve?”

“Fuck no,” Steve breathes, hands carding gently through Bucky’s hair.

“Good,” Bucky smiles, planting a soft, quick kiss to Steve’s lips. “And those gifts you got me were perfect Steve, but you know all I really want for Christmas is you.”

“Well, then I guess you’re gettin’ what you want, Buck,” Steve whispers with a soft, shy grin. “Now, how about we head back into the party? They’re playin’ some good music and I’d really love a dance now that I’ve got a decent partner.”

Bucky nods, unable to keep from beaming as Steve takes his hand and leads him back into the banquet room. And if a cheer goes up from their coworkers as the two of them take the dance floor, their friends cat-calling and wolf-whistling from their spot by the bar? Well, that just fine, Bucky thinks.

After all, who can resist a little romance at Christmastime?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! You can submit requests if you'd like via [tumblr](http://emphasisonem.tumblr.com/) or just pop them in the comments :)


	9. Where the Love Light Gleams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s, um-” Steve manages to stammer as he grins up at the stranger, suddenly feeling small as he gestures toward the lights and decorations- “It’s very festive, yes. Pretty, too.”
> 
> “Very pretty,” the brunet murmurs as he eyes drift from Steve’s eyes to his lips, and Steve can feel his cheeks heating up with a strange mix of embarrassment and pleasure. Thank god they’re probably already flush with the cold. 
> 
> **In which Steve cannot sleep on Christmas Eve and takes a walk to enjoy the Christmas decorations on Main Street.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another very short little piece of fluff because this day has been a bit nuts and my company holiday party's tonight, so time has not been on my side today. Hope you guys like it!
> 
> The title's from a lyric in "I'll Be Home For Christmas. I've always sworn by the [Frank Sinatra version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1pk-SLQPYJ0), but [Leslie Odom Jr. does a version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4zJQOyEXUbs) which is just incredible. Of course.

It’s Christmas Eve and Steve can’t sleep, tossing and turning alone in his bed. He rolls over, glaring at the bright red numbers on his digital clock which currently read 1:17 a.m. He’s got to be up early to start preparing for his Christmas Day festivities - he’d invited his mom and a bunch of friends for dinner - so naturally sleep is evading him entirely. 

Maybe, he thinks as he pushes himself up with a huff, a walk down Main Street to see the Christmas lights will tire him out a little and set him at ease. Steve rolls out of bed, grabbing up the clothes he’d tossed on the chair in his room after changing into pajamas. 

Steve quickly bundles his short, slender frame in a thick, wool pea coat, a scarf, a stocking cap and a pair of gloves. He laces up the warmest, sturdiest boots he owns, and then he’s out the door, strolling down the street. 

Steve’s face is warm with exertion, little clouds puffing up in front of his mouth as he pants. The air is cold and biting, but Steve doesn’t mind it all that much. It never feels like Christmas to him unless it’s cold outside. 

The shops along Main Street are long since closed, but most of the people who own the properties leave their Christmas lights on overnight in the week or so before the holiday. It must be a hell of an expense, Steve thinks, but he’s glad they’re willing to pay for it. 

The brand-new coffee shop, Buck’s Beans, is his favorite, Steve thinks. While most of the businesses have opted for small, soft white lights (which  _ do  _ look lovely), the owner of Buck’s Beans sports big, retro-style, brightly-colored bulbs. A large, lit wreath hangs from the door, and the display window showcases a set of light-up lawn decorations from the original Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer cartoon. 

“Festive, ain’t it?” 

Steve blinks, startled a little by the soft, raspy voice at his side. He turns to the left and is greeted with a smile from a breathtaking young man. He’s tall, with long, dark hair spilling from beneath a red and black plaid trapper hat. His fleece-lined bomber jacket and fitted jeans hint at a lean, almost lanky frame. The man’s face is an appealing mix of sharp cheekbones, soft lips, stubble-covered cheeks and laughing gray eyes.

“It’s, um-” Steve manages to stammer as he grins up at the stranger, suddenly feeling small as he gestures toward the lights and decorations- “It’s very festive, yes. Pretty, too.”

“Very pretty,” the brunet murmurs as he eyes drift from Steve’s eyes to his lips, and Steve can feel his cheeks heating up with a strange mix of embarrassment and pleasure. Thank god they’re probably already flush with the cold. 

“You look like you could use a hot drink,” the stranger smiles, gesturing toward the door. “You wanna come in? I’d be happy to whip somethin’ up for ya.”

“Oh,” Steve laughs, glancing quickly at his shoes before looking back up at the other man. “I wouldn’t wanna impose-”

“It’s no trouble,” the man chuckles, clapping a hand to Steve’s shoulder. “I live in the apartment above the place anyway, and really, I’d feel better if you came in and warmed up, pal.”

Steve nods, letting the brunet guide him through the door once he’s unlocked it. “So, I’m guessing you’re the Buck in Buck’s Beans?”

The other man barks out a laugh as he flips the light switch, then peels off his coat and tosses it and his hat onto one of the tables by the door. He’s wearing a well-fitted sweater over a button-up, indicating a nice night out. Steve wonders if he was on a date, a little flicker of envy burning low in his gut. 

“Yeah, James Buchanan Barnes, but everybody calls me Bucky,” he says and extends his hand, and Steve shakes it, silently berating himself for not taking off his gloves sooner. He wants to know what Bucky’s smooth skin would feel like against his own. “And you are?”

“Steve Rogers,” Steve replies, smiling shyly. “Pleasure to meetcha.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, pal,” Bucky winks, and Steve can’t stop the giggle that leaves his lips. He’d be mortified if Bucky wasn’t laughing right along with him. “Now what can I get you to drink? Coffee at this hour’s probably not a great idea, but we make good hot chocolate if you’re into that sort of thing.”

Steve shrugs with a smile. “Are there people who aren’t?”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Bucky smiles, gathering up his dark hair and tying it back with an elastic he produces from his pocket. “You want peppermint in it? People seem to love peppermint around Christmas.”

“Peppermint sounds good,” Steve answers, removing his outerwear and then settling into one of the seats at the counter to watch Bucky work. The brunet moves with an easy grace, and Steve’s reminded briefly of a dancer. His fingers twitch, and he wishes he’d thought to grab his sketchpad and a pencil because this man simply begs to be drawn, the fine lines of his body memorialized on paper. 

Steve murmurs a soft, “Thank you,” as Bucky sets a steaming mug topped with whipped cream down in front of him a few minutes later, nervous as those stormy eyes survey him thoughtfully. 

“So, what does Steve Rogers do when he’s not out lookin’ at Christmas decorations at odd hours?” Bucky grins. 

“I’m, um, an artist,” Steve replies with a shy smile. “Comic books.”

“No fuckin’ way!” Bucky exclaims, leaning forward so that Steve could count each piece of stubble if he wanted to. “Dude, that’s so cool! You gotta bring some of them by next time you come in. I wanna see!”

“Thanks,” Steve chuckles. “And yeah, sure. I’d, uh, I’d ask what you do, but-” Steve shrugs, gesturing around the coffee shop. “I kind of figured it out already. And by the way, you’re clearly in the right line of work. This is the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had.”

“Well, thank you, Steve,” Bucky replies, head in his hands as he says, “You know, I’m glad I bumped into you. It’s not every day that a cute comic artists compliments my skills.”

Given the sly smile on Bucky’s face, Steve knows the other man can tell he’s blushing, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when a guy who looks like Bucky does is actually sort of flirting with him. 

The two of them fall into an easy rhythm of question and answer, and Steve’s so comfortable as they discuss their favorite holiday movies and songs, their families and friends and their careers, that the question’s out of his mouth before he can really think it through, “So, you’re dressed up real nice; did ya have a date or somethin’?”

Bucky’s eyes widen for a moment, a delighted little glint entering them as he smirks at Steve. “Family thing. We celebrated Christmas early this year because my sister’s workin’ tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Steve replies, unable to meet Bucky’s eyes. “Well, that’s nice.”

“It is,” Bucky answers, a wry grin lighting up his features. “And I’m not seein’ anybody. In case that was your not-so-subtle way of askin’.”

“Oh, I didn’t-” Steve stammers, and god, he’s probably redder than Rudolph’s nose right now- “I didn’t mean it like- I’m so sorry if-”

“Steve, relax,” Bucky’s voice is soft and his smile is wide. “I don’t mind you askin’.”

Steve’s mouth drops open at that because if Bucky’s saying what Steve  _ thinks _ he’s saying, then-

“In that case-” Steve somehow manages to reply, despite his flaming cheeks and his inability to breathe- “What do you think of grabbing drinks sometime? I’d ask you out for coffee, but you probably get enough of that.”

Apparently when Bucky finds something really funny, his whole body gets in on the act. He throws his head back as he laughs, the joyful sound coming from deep in his belly as he throws an arm across his midsection. His eyes crinkle up at the corners, and his knees bend a little as though he’s trying to keep his mirth from throwing him off balance.

“Yeah, Steve,” Bucky finally manages to gasp. “Yeah, I think drinks with you would be right up my alley.”

Bucky’s number, scrawled hastily on a napkin before Steve leaves the shop, is burning a hole in his pocket as he walks, and he can’t stop smiling the whole way home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Requests are encouraged and can be submitted via [tumblr](http://emphasisonem.tumblr.com/) or in the comments :)


	10. Oh, I’ve Had a Few Too Many, And It’s Getting Hard to Stand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve registers three things when he first wakes up the night after the company holiday party. 
> 
> 1\. It is too bright.  
> 2\. His head hurts, but less than he thought it would, considering he lost count of how many drinks he’d had after his fourth tequila shot.  
> 3\. He’s not alone in his bed. 
> 
> **In which Steve has too much to drink and wakes up next to one of his colleagues.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not saying that imagining this story last night is the only thing that got me through my own company shindig - quite a few whiskey sodas and a handful of rad coworkers also contributed to a successful evening - but it definitely helped. Hope you guys like it!
> 
> The title's from a line in possibly the weirdest goddamn Christmas song I've ever heard, ["Ho, Ho, Ho (Who'd Be A Turkey At Christmas)"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iXP5OXm3v8k) by Elton John. And unless you have lunatic parents like mine who saved the original ["Step Into Christmas"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eDqi8ENS1FU) single release (which is a certified bop), or you are super into Sir Elton, there's a solid chance you've never heard this little slice of strange. You're welcome.

Steve registers three things when he first wakes up the night after the company holiday party.

  1. It is too bright.
  2. His head hurts, but less than he thought it would, considering he lost count of how many drinks he’d had after his fourth tequila shot.
  3. He’s not alone in his bed.



Steve wonders if maybe he just never opens his eyes he’ll never have to face the fact that he drunkenly brought a coworker home last night. Given the firmness of the chest he’s lying on, it’s one of the men, which is probably a good thing since all of the women in the office had brought dates. Steve’d hate to be a home wrecker on top of being a complete fucking idiot.

A moment later, gentle fingers are carding through his short, blond hair, surprising a low groan from his throat. There’s a raspy chuckle from somewhere above him and it sounds pretty damn familiar. Steve’s stomach drops because there’s no way he could have been _so stupid_.

But when his eyes flutter open and glance upward, it turns out he’s been _exactly_ that stupid. Because he’s wrapped up in Bucky Barnes’s arms.

Not that he minds. No, Steve’s heart is beating double time in his chest as Bucky smiles down at him, plush lips turning up in that lopsided little grin that always makes Steve weak. It’s just that Steve’s had a crush on Bucky since the handsome brunet started at the small event-planning company where Steve’s worked for the past couple years. He’s had nearly a year to get to know Bucky, to fall for the other man slowly but surely.

So, naturally, Steve went ahead and fucked himself royally by hooking up with Bucky while drunk. He curses himself because if it was going to be just a one-night stand, Steve would have loved to remember it.

“Mornin’,” Bucky’s voice is soft, and Steve grins because of course the guy’s concerned about being too loud when Steve might be too hungover to function.

“Morning,” Steve replies, shifting  so that he can sit up beside Bucky. He has no doubt that his cheeks have gone pink; he can feel the blush burning, but he’s got to be an adult about this. And that’s when he realizes he’s not in his bed at all.

“Before you freak out like I can tell you’re about to do, you can relax,” Bucky chuckles, placing a gentle hand on Steve’s forearm. “You were drunk to the point that you weren’t really makin’ sense last night, so I brought you here. Wasn’t sure you’d be able to tell a cabbie where ya live. And I know I’ve been to your place once or twice, but I was a touch tipsy too. Didn’t want the two of us endin’ up sleepin’ in an alley somewhere because I couldn’t remember your address. Hope that was ok.”

“Oh, fuck,” Steve drops his head into his hands, exhaling through clenched teeth. “I’m so sorry, Buck. I didn’t mean to get wasted last night, but you know how pushy Nat and Sam can be.”

Bucky laughs, rolling out of the bed and giving Steve an incredible view. Bucky’s got on low-slung pajama pants and nothing else, and Steve is mesmerized by the other man’s lean, hard body. Bucky either doesn’t notice it or chooses to ignore it.

“I’m gonna make breakfast,” Bucky tells him. “What do you like better, waffles or pancakes?”

“Uh-” Steve shakes his head, blinking up at Bucky in confusion. “Waffles, I guess.”

“Eggs?” Bucky smirks, and for a second Steve thinks he sees a hint of desire in his friend's steely eyes.

“Over easy,” Steve replies, swinging his legs out and over the edge of the bed. The chill hits him immediately, and Steve has to try and process the fact that Bucky apparently undressed him last night because he’s only wearing a thin-white undershirt and his navy boxer briefs. “Buck, you really don’t have to-”

“Nah, Steve, you need a good breakfast after a night like last night,” Bucky chuckles, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “Besides, my sister’s in town for the holiday. You know how college kids love real food after months of garbage. That’s why we shared a bed last night, by the way. Becca was already asleep on the couch when I got you inside.”

“Oh,” Steve feels his shoulders sag with relief as he gazes up at Bucky. “So, nothin’ happened between-?”

Steve lets the sentence trail off, watching Bucky’s face carefully. The brunet can be hard to read, but at the moment there are a number of emotions racing across his face. Concern. Amusement. And, Steve thinks, maybe a hint of wistfulness.

“No, nothin’ happened,” Bucky replies, and Steve’s wondering if he’s imagining the longing in the other man’s voice. Bucky clears his throat as he breaks eye contact with Steve, gesturing vaguely to a chair by the bed. “I, uh, laid out some sweats and stuff if you don’t wanna put your suit back on. There’s a towel there too, and the bathroom’s got a shower if you wanted to clean up or whatever.”

“Ok,” Steve smiles, nodding and watching Bucky grab a hoodie that’s hanging from his doorknob and pull it on. “Thanks, Bucky.”

“Sure thing, pal,” Bucky manages a tight smile, then says, “And, uh, anything Becca says at breakfast you can just ignore, all right?”

Steve’s brow furrows and he wants to ask Bucky what he means, but the other man looks a little nervous, so Steve simply replies. “All right,” before grabbing the towel and heading for the shower.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, wow, Buck wasn’t kiddin’ about you.”

Bucky’s standing at the stove, gripping a spatula and wondering how hard he’d have to hit his baby sister with it to knock her out and shut her up. He figures Steve’s just walked into the kitchen, so he turns around with a wry smile.

As always, Steve Rogers is a _sight_. The fact that he’s wearing one of Bucky’s threadbare old t-shirts from college and a pair of his sweats isn’t helping. Bucky’s heart aches as he wonders what it would be like to start every morning like this, making breakfast for the beautiful blond, watching him smile softly as he settles into a seat at the kitchen table.

Bucky can still remember being introduced to Steve on his first day at the office. Despite being a friendly and gregarious guy, Bucky’d been too stunned to say much more than ‘hello’ and ‘nice to meet you’ when they’d met. It had taken him weeks to have a real conversation with the guy, and when he did, Bucky had found that not only was Steve breathtakingly gorgeous, he was also kind and funny and smart.

In a nutshell, perfect.

“You must be Becca,” Steve replies, extending his hand, which Becca shakes. “I’m Steve. And what wasn’t he kiddin’ about?”

“How big you are,” Becca grins as she eyes Bucky’s coworker and friend appreciatively, then turns to her brother. “He _is_ built like a brick shithouse, Buck.”

Steve barks out a laugh, bright blue eyes dancing with amusement as he glances over at Bucky. “Is that how you describe me to people who haven’t met me yet, pal? I’m flattered.”

“Well, I’ve heard way more about you than your stunning looks,” Becca chuckles. “But you certainly are my brother’s type.”

“Steve,” Bucky’s voice is way too loud as he glares at Becca. “Did you want toast? For your eggs?”

“Um,” Steve eyes dart between the sibling, looking a little wary. “Sure.”

Becca seems to sense Bucky’s annoyance because she restrains herself from making any more suggestive comments as she and Steve wait for breakfast. They chat about Steve’s job and Becca’s college courses, and Bucky’s glad they seem to be getting along.

The three of them are fairly quiet as they eat; clearly they were hungry. But Bucky practically chokes on a strip of bacon as Steve moans over the first bite of his waffle, cheeks flushing as he notices Bucky and his sister staring.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “Really good waffles, Buck.”

“Thanks,” Bucky chokes out, flashing back to last night and wondering if he’d have gotten to hear that sound if he’d’ve let Steve have his way.

_“Bucky,” Steve slurs, lips hot and heavy on the back of Bucky’s neck as the brunet fumbles for his keys, hands shaking as he unlocks the door._

_“Bucky, I like you,” Steve breathes, hands finding Bucky’s hips and gripping them tight. Bucky can feel Steve’s length pressing against him, and it takes every ounce of his restraint not to turn around and let Steve kiss him breathless. He wants the other man so badly he’s trembling, but he doesn't want it to happen like this._

_“Like you too, Steve,” Bucky replies as he extricates himself from the blond’s grip, pulling him into the apartment. Becca stirs on the couch, but doesn’t wake as Bucky tugs Steve into his bedroom._

_“No, Bucky, I-” Steve huffs as Bucky closes the bedroom door behind them, and Jesus, the blond is standing way too close. “I mean I’m into you. I want you.”_

_And then Steve’s hand is tangled in Bucky’s hair, his lips soft and sloppy against Bucky’s own, and it would be easy - so, so easy - to just let Steve take him like this. But the blond is drunk and it’s wrong and Bucky can’t take the chance that Steve will wake up horrified if the two of them sleep together._

_“Get some sleep, Steve,” Bucky murmurs, as he pushes the blond onto the bed. “We’ll talk in the morning.”_

Bucky had left the room to get himself a glass of water and to calm down, and Steve had been passed out when he’d returned. Given the other man’s relative calm, Bucky figures Steve has no recollection of what he’d tried to do last night.

Maybe if it’s for the best. Because if all Steve wants with Bucky is a one-night stand, he thinks that’d just about break his heart.

 

* * *

 

Bucky’s quiet as he drives Steve back to his own apartment, hands gripping the wheel so tight that his knuckles are white. Steve knows they need to talk about what happened, about the comments his sister made at breakfast. He knows Bucky isn’t telling him the whole truth because the usually talkative brunet has only said about three words since the two of them got into the car, but Steve doesn’t know how to begin the conversation.

That, and he’s terrified of what it might mean for their working relationship and, more importantly, their friendship.

Bucky pulls up outside Steve’s building, and Steve can see the muscles in the other man’s jaw tightening. Whatever happened last night clearly has Bucky on edge.

“Come up?” Steve asks softly, eyes wide and pleading. “I know you’re not tellin’ me everythin’, Buck. Come up and talk to me?”

Bucky exhales through gritted teeth, nodding and opening his car door. He follows Steve into the building, and Steve’s hands tremble as he unlocks his apartment door and gestures Bucky inside. They sit down on Steve’s couch, and Steve waits, watching Bucky out of the corner of his eye.

“We didn’t sleep together, Steve,” Bucky finally says, running a hand through his dark hair. “I’d’ve told you if we did. But-” Bucky pauses for a moment, inhaling and exhaling deeply before continuing, “But you really seemed to want to sleep with me.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Steve breathes, running a hand across his face and daring a glance at his friend. Bucky’s face is stony, but his eyes are vulnerable and uncertain. Steve’s not sure if that’s a good sign or not. “Buck, I’m so sorry. I was drunk and-”

“You told me that you like me,” Bucky interrupts him, gaze determined. “That you wanted me. And, I’ll be honest Steve, that’s fine with me. I don’t know if Becca was obvious enough for ya, but I’m interested in you. Have been for a while now.”

“You-” Steve gapes, suddenly short of breath as Bucky scoots closer to him. “You’re into me?”

“Yeah,” Bucky huffs, gray eyes afraid and hopeful all at once, and it breaks Steve’s heart a little bit. “I just. I need to know what you want Steve. Because if it’s just a one-time thing or, like, a fling, I don’t think I can give it to you.”

“And if I want more?” Steve asks, reaching out to cup Bucky’s face, sliding his thumb back and forth across Bucky’s cheekbone. “What then, Buck? Can you give me more?”

“Steve,” Bucky breathes, laying his hand atop Steve’s, tangling their fingers together as he sighs, “I can give you everything if you want it. Every piece of me. You just gotta ask, and I’m yours.”

“I want you,” Steve can hear the desperation, the longing in his own voice, but he can’t bring himself to care because Bucky’s looking at him like he’s never seen anything more perfect in his life, and Steve’s heart is in his throat as he pleads, “Bucky, I want you so much. I want to wake up in your bed with you. I want you to wake up in mine. I wanna take you out on dates. I wanna spoil you. I wanna have big breakfasts and curl up on the couch and just be with you. I want-”

“You want it, Steve?” Bucky laughs, eyes shining and _Christ_ , but this man is the most beautiful thing Steve’s ever seen. “Told you, pal, it’s yours.”

And then Bucky’s lips are on his, their mouths slotting together perfectly as Bucky kisses him. Bucky groans as Steve’s fingers tug at his hair, and Steve licks his way into Bucky’s warm, wet mouth, whining as their tongues meet and curl against each other. It’s too much and not enough all at once, and Steve knows he never wants to kiss another soul again in his life because there’s no way they could make him feel like this.

Bucky pulls back first, a shy smile on his handsome face. “So, I should-” Bucky chuckles, a little breathlessly, and Steve can’t help grinning at that- “I should go. I promised Becca we’d do a bunch of stuff today, but we should go out tonight, you and me.”

“Like a date?” Steve asks, blushing as Bucky giggles and leans down to kiss Steve on the forehead as he stands.

“Exactly like a date,” Bucky replies, and Steve knows Bucky needs to go, but he can’t resist standing up and pulling the brunet into his arms, kissing him again slow and deep simply because he _can_.

“Pick me up at eight?” Steve whispers against Bucky’s lips with a smile.

“Sounds perfect,” Bucky replies, kissing Steve lightly before stepping back and opening Steve’s door. “I’ll see you later, Steve.”

“Bye, Buck,” Steve grins, waving like a complete goofball as Bucky begins to close the door.

“Oh, and Rogers?” Bucky smirks, and Steve’s toes are curling at the predatory gleam in those stormy eyes. “Do me a favor and try not to get loaded tonight, all right? Because if you enjoy the date and you want to, I’d really, _really_ like you to fuck me. And I want you to remember it.”

And with a wink and a devilish grin, Bucky’s closes the door, leaving Steve half-hard and open-mouthed on his couch.

Steve glances at the clock on his wall, which currently reads 2 p.m.

It’s going to be a long six hours, but Steve figures he can tough it out if it means he finally get to go on a date with James Buchanan Barnes.

He smiles softly to himself and then pads into his kitchen to make sure that he’s got in the ingredients to make breakfast for Bucky tomorrow morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Any requests can be sent via [tumblr](http://emphasisonem.tumblr.com/) or the comments!


	11. Got Plans to Give You Your Gift Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s-” Steve’s eyes narrow as he he looks up at Bucky. “It’s another box.”
> 
> “Oh, so it is,” Bucky smirks, gray eyes dancing with laughter, and Steve groans. “Problem, dear?”
> 
> “This is gonna take me forever isn’t it?” Steve’s openly glaring at Bucky now, but it doesn’t seem to be doing anything except amusing his boyfriend further.
> 
> “Well,” Bucky’s voice drops, and Steve’s breath catches a little at the mischievous gleam in those beautiful eyes. “You certainly didn’t mind delayin' my gratification earlier. I’m just returnin' the favor, love.”
> 
> **In which Bucky gives Steve an early gift.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Several people were a smidge disappointed that yesterday's update didn't end in smut, so I present to you today a dose of fluffy, sweet smut :) In case you forgot, I am an unapologetic sap, and if anything proves it, it's this little fic right here. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> The title's from an underrated Christmas classic that I never hear on the radio called ["It's Christmastime Again"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Llx2shF_Eg) by the Backstreet Boys.

“Jesus _Christ_ , but it’s good to be back inside,” Steve gasps out a laugh, shivering as he shrugs out of his parka. “Fuckin’ freezin’ out there. Don’t get me wrong, it was a good idea to walk to Peggy and Angie’s for the party so we could both drink a little, but I don’t think I’m gonna be able to feel my face for like a week."

Bucky chuckles, unwinding his scarf and pulling off his pea coat, shaking his head as he hangs their outerwear in the small closet by the door. “You are honestly so goddamn dramatic, Rogers. Lucky I put up with your whinin’.”

“Oh, I’m the lucky one, am I?” Steve smirks, grasping Bucky’s collar and pulling his boyfriend into a languid kiss. The brunet melts against him instantly, hands gripping Steve’s broad shoulders as their mouths move together.

“Never said I wasn’t lucky, too, Stevie,” Bucky breathes as he pulls back, his smile wide and warm. “Come on, I’ll make us a couple of Irish coffees to warm us up and we can snuggle on the couch.”

Steve follows Bucky into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist and pressing up against the other man’s back as he places lingering kisses along the side of Bucky’s neck while Bucky gets their drip coffee pot set up to brew.

“I can think of another way to warm us up,” Steve purrs, nipping at Bucky’s earlobe and delighting in the hitch he can hear in Bucky’s breathing. “Not that I don’t love snuggling you, but-”

Steve trails off, sliding his hands lower and fiddling with the button of Bucky’s jeans, groaning low in his throat as Bucky presses back against his rapidly hardening cock.

“Mmm,” Bucky hums as Steve slowly slides his zipper down, fingers working their way past the waistband of his boxers. “Well, it’ll take a few minutes for the coffee to brew, and it’s not like it’ll get cold.”

Steve huffs out a laugh against Bucky’s neck as he wraps a hand around the other man’s cock, breath catching in his throat as Bucky moans, “Stevie, _please_.”

“Come on,” Steve whispers, releasing Bucky’s cock and taking his hand, tugging him in the direction of their room. “Lemme take you to bed.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky’s shaking as he lies facedown on their bed, Steve's tongue and fingers working him open. Steve loves taking his time, loves torturing Bucky slow and sweet until he’s a sweaty, begging mess.

Not that Bucky really has an issue with it, but _Christ,_ he needs Steve’s cock like he needs air right now.

“Would you-” Bucky groans, a high whine escaping his throat as Steve crooks his fingers, pressing down against Bucky’s prostate, lingering there as though to test Bucky’s limits- “Would you just fuck me already? I’m open and wet enough; you probably used like half the fuckin' bottle of lube. I swear to Christ, I’m _dyin’_ here, baby.”

“And I’m the dramatic one,” Steve chuckles, the sound low and a little gravelly, and Bucky’s toes curl in anticipation as Steve drags his fingers out of his ass. He can’t help whimpering at the loss even though he knows Steve’s sliding on a condom and coating himself with lube. “On your side, gorgeous.”

“Stevie, _please,_ sweetheart,” Bucky breathes, his voice high and broken as Steve lines himself up and begins to push forward so slowly Bucky thinks he might combust. “Need you, come on. Need you to fuck me like you mean it.”

“Always fuck you like I mean it, Buck,” Steve rasps, finally sheathed to the hilt. The blond sucks at the side of Bucky’s neck, drawing a hoarse cry from Bucky as he rolls his hips. “Gonna take such good care of you, baby doll. Gonna love on you all night.”

“Steve,” Bucky gasps as Steve begins to pull back slowly, cock dragging along the muscles inside of Bucky. One of Steve’s large hands is holding Bucky’s leg up so that he’s got better access. Bucky grabs it, threading his fingers through Steve’s, gripping tight as he moans, “Need it harder, doll, please.”

“Bucky, baby,” Steve smiles against his neck, and Bucky shivers at the feeling as Steve slowly pushes back into him. “Relax. I’ll give you what you need, sugar. Relax.”

So Bucky does. He lets his body loll back against Steve’s, let’s the other man slide in and out, slow and torturous. Bucky can’t stop the soft, high sounds coming from the back of his throat as he moves with Steve, body trembling as Steve wraps a hand around his cock and begins to stroke him in time with each of his thrusts.

“That’s it, baby doll,” Steve croons as Bucky begins to tighten around him. “Know you like it rough doll, and god knows I do too. But, Christ, you’re a sight when I take it slow, baby, and I know you love it. Love me takin' you apart like this, fuckin' love it, don't you?"  

Bucky moans as Steve's cock drags slowly back and forth over his prostate, white sparks dancing across his vision as Steve groans as Bucky grinds back against him, "Yeah, you fuckin' love it. So beautiful like this, Buck. That’s it, give it up for me, baby.”

“Steve,” Bucky gasps, his climax building low in his belly as Steve runs his thumb over the slit of his cock, never letting up. “Stevie, fuck, _oh, god.”_

“Come on, sweetheart,” Steve’s voice is still low and controlled, but Bucky can hear the note of desperation there, can feel the blond’s hips stuttering a little more erratically as Bucky’s muscles flutter around him. “I know you wanna come for me, angel, so go ahead. Wanna feel it.”

“Steve,” Bucky sobs out, cock pulsing as he orgasms, dirtying the sheets and Steve’s hand as the blond rocks him through it. Steve spills into the condom a few moments later, groaning into the crook of Bucky’s neck as he holds tight.

The two of them lie still for a moment, the aftershocks washing over them. Bucky moves first, shifting so that he can turn and capture Steve’s lips in a lazy kiss. The blond’s mouth is soft and pliant, and he hums against Bucky with a smile.

“God, I love you,” Steve breathes as they part, tugging gently at Bucky’s long, dark hair. “Do you know how much I love you?”

“I think I have an idea,” Bucky giggle softly, huffing out a low moan as Steve pulls out of him. “I love you too, you know.”

“I know,” Steve smiles, running a gentle finger along Bucky’s jaw before kissing him sweetly. “Shower and then tasty warm beverages and snuggles?”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, standing, stretching and padding after his boyfriend.

 

* * *

 

Steve’s nodding off, his head resting against Bucky’s shoulder, when he feels the brunet shift and leave the couch. Steve groans at the loss, and he can hear Bucky chuckling as he comes back toward the sofa a moment later. When Steve opens his eyes, Bucky’s smiling shyly, holding out a fairly large, well-wrapped gift box.

“It’s not Christmas yet,” Steve murmurs with a grin as he kisses Bucky’s cheek. The brunet’s is blushing, and he can’t quite meet Steve’s eyes. Steve hasn’t seen Bucky this bashful since they’d first started dating three years ago.

“Yeah, well, I can’t wait, so you’re gettin’ this one early,” Bucky chuckles, holding out the box. Steve takes it, narrowing his eyes as he shakes it.

“What is it?” he asks, smirking at Bucky. The other man huffs out a laugh and rolls his eyes.

“Open it and see, ya big galoot.”

Steve barks out a laugh, tugging on the ribbon and pulling it off before tearing at the wrapping paper. He opens up the box, digging in and pulling out what’s inside.

“It’s-” Steve’s eyes narrow as he he looks up at Bucky- “It’s another box.”

“Oh, so it is,” Bucky smirks, gray eyes dancing with laughter, and Steve groans. “Problem, dear?”

“This is gonna take me forever isn’t it?” Steve’s openly glaring at Bucky now, but it doesn’t seem to be doing anything except amusing his boyfriend further.

“Well,” Bucky’s voice drops, and Steve’s breath catches a little at the mischievous gleam in those beautiful eyes. “You certainly didn’t mind delayin'  _my_ gratification earlier. I’m just returnin' the favor, love.”

 

* * *

 

Steve is growing increasingly agitated with every box he encounters, and it’s taking every ounce of Bucky’s restraint not to break down and tell him what’s waiting for him. It’s funny to watch the angry flush spread across Steve’s cheeks, to see his blue eyes flash impatiently each time he pulls a progressively smaller box out of the one he’s just opened. Bucky’s glad he decided to do it this way; the humor of the situation is offsetting his nerves just a little bit.

When Steve gets to the second-to-last box, Bucky’s heart begins to beat wildly in his chest because this is it. Once Steve tears the paper from this box and opens it up, he’s going to know.

“I swear to god, Buck,” Steve growls, and Bucky giggles, a little too high-pitched and shaky for Steve not to notice. Concern replaces the annoyance in his eyes, brow furrowing as he asks, “You all right, doll?”

“I’m fine,” Bucky breathes, smiling tightly. “Go on, you’re almost there.”

Steve’s so focused on getting the box open that he misses Buck sliding off the couch and dropping to a knee.

“What is-” Steve’s eyes narrow as he takes in the small, red velvet box in his hand, eyes widening almost comically as he takes in the sight of Bucky kneeling before him. “Oh my god.”

“Open it, Stevie,” Bucky whispers, smiling as his boyfriend’s eyes begin to well up, and yeah, he thinks the gift is going to go over just fine.

“Buck,” Steve chokes, a strangled laugh ripping from his throat. “Honey, are you serious?”

“Oh, give it to me, then,” Bucky chuckles breathlessly, taking the box from Steve and opening it so that Steve can see the silver band nestled inside, an unobtrusive little sapphire embedded in the center.

“Steve,” Bucky inhales and exhales deeply before he continues. “You are absolutely the best thing that’s ever happened to me. There are still so many days that I can’t believe I get to wake up to somebody as beautiful and kind as you are. You make me feel loved and protected and safe. You’re my home, Stevie, and I want you to know I’m with you ‘til the end of the line. So, I have a proposition for ya, if ya wanna hear it.”

“Yeah, Bucky,” Steve’s laugh is watery, but his smile is bright and wide and breathtaking. “I’d love to hear it.”

“I’m gonna ask you to marry me, Steve,” Bucky grins, liking the way Steve giggles as the brunet plucks the ring from the box. “I’m gonna slide this here ring on your finger. We’re gonna plan a wedding. I don’t care where or when or how many people we invite, so long as you and I get to say "I do." And then we’re gonna build the rest of our lives together. That work for you?”

“You know, I think it might,” Steve’s positively beaming now, his right hand reaching out to cup Bucky’s face as the brunet takes his left.

“Steven Grant Rogers,” Bucky breathes as he slides the ring onto Steve’s finger. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Steve whispers, tugging Bucky up into his lap and kissing him soundly. Bucky can feel the tears rolling down Steve’s cheeks as he cups the other man’s face, the two of them laughing like a couple of rowdy kids as their mouths move against each other.

“I love you so much, Stevie,” Bucky smiles, basking in the joy emanating from the other man. “God, I can’t wait until I can call you my husband.”

“Me neither,” Steve sighs, unable to stop smiling. “And I love you too, Bucky.”

Bucky yelps as Steve stands abruptly, hands dropping to the swell of Bucky's ass as he carts the brunet out of the living room and down the hall toward the bedroom. 

"Remember when I said I was gonna love on you all night?" Steve chuckles, voice low and hoarse as he nuzzles his nose against Bucky's. "Changed my mind. You're not leavin' the bed for the rest of the weekend."

“I think I can live with that,” Bucky sighs against Steve’s lips as his _fiancé’s_ hands tighten around his waist. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

“Merry Christmas, doll.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! You can send requests via [tumblr](http://emphasisonem.tumblr.com/) or the comments!


	12. I Saw Daddy Kissing Santa Claus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Papa,” Natasha sighs. “You’re the only one who’s supposed to kiss Daddy, right?”
> 
> Bucky barks out a laugh as he cracks open the Pillsbury cinnamon rolls and begins placing them in one of their glass baking dishes. “Yeah, kiddo, that’s kind of the idea.”
> 
> “Well, he was-” Natasha stammers, little face scrunched up in a way that makes Bucky’s heart ache- “I mean, I saw-”
> 
> And then his daughter does something wildly out of character; she bursts into tears.
> 
>  
> 
> **In which Steve and Bucky's little girl is somewhat concerned about something she's seen.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unapologetic. Sap. Seriously, this is just straight family fluff. I made Natasha a kid so that I'd have an excuse for Bucky to speak a little bit of Russian. Hope nobody minds :)
> 
> Title's based on "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus." We always listened to [the John Mellencamp version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zsat4e8jgHA), but it turns out that there is [a version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vHYzkthgzV0) of this where daddy's the one smoochin' the man with the bag ;)

“Papa.”

Bucky stirs, murmuring as he shifts away from the small, hushed voice and little fingers poking him in the face.

_“Papa.”_

“Chto eto, printsessa?” Bucky groans, scrubbing a hand across his face as his gray eyes blink open. It’s still dark, and when Bucky looks at the digital clock on the bedside table, he understands why; it’s only quarter to six in the morning. “What’s wrong?”

“I needa talk to you,” Natasha whispers, big green eyes wide as she glances furtively at the lump beside Bucky. Steve is snoring gently, one arm thrown across Bucky’s waist as he slumbers. “It’s about Daddy.”

“What is it, malyutka?” Bucky grins, reaching out a hand to smooth down the child’s unruly red curls. They’d adopted Natasha from a Russian orphanage just after she’d turned three, and while Bucky and Steve have done a good job teaching her to speak English over the last two years, Bucky likes to pepper their conversations with Russian. He’s always been well-versed enough to be conversational in his daughter’s native language, and he doesn’t want her to forget where she came from.

Natasha shakes her head, hair flying as she whispers, “Not here. C’mon.”

Her tiny hand is tugging at the sleeve of Bucky’s pajama top, and he rolls away from Steve and out of their bed with a sigh and follows their daughter out into the hallway.

“Oh!” Natasha exclaims as the two of them reach the living room of the small apartment the three of them share. She turns back to Bucky with a wide smile on her pretty little face, eyes shining with excitement as she observes the boxes under their tree. Bucky’d forgotten in his half-asleep haze that today was Christmas. “Schastlivogo Rozhdestva, Papa!”

Bucky chuckles, swinging the girl up into his arms and kissing her on the nose. “Schastlivogo Rozhdestva, printsessa.”

Natasha giggles, placing a kiss on Bucky’s nose as he carries her into the kitchen and sets her down on one of the chairs at their table. He pours her a glass of apple juice before setting about brewing coffee for himself and Steve, then turns to her with a smile.

“All right, malyutka,” Bucky says, watching the girl slurp up her apple juice. “Do you want me to make you some cinnamon rolls while you tell me whatever it is you need to tell me? And then we can wake daddy up and do presents, da?”

Natasha nods emphatically as she grins. She seems to remember her earlier sense of urgency a moment later, the smile fading from her face as she bites down on her bottom lip.

“Papa,” Natasha sighs. “You’re the only one who’s supposed to kiss Daddy, right?”

Bucky barks out a laugh as he cracks open the Pillsbury cinnamon rolls and begins placing them in one of their glass baking dishes. “Yeah, kiddo, that’s kind of the idea.”

“Well, he was-” Natasha stammers, little face scrunched up in a way that makes Bucky’s heart ache- “I mean, I saw-”

And then his daughter does something wildly out of character; she bursts into tears.

“Malyutka,” Bucky rushes to her side, wrapping his arms around her as he strokes her hair. “Vse v poryadke, darling, it’s all right. Tell papa, what’s wrong, it’s ok. We’ll fix it, I promise.”

“I saw Daddy kissing Santa last night!” Natasha exclaims through her tears. “They were standin’ under the mistletoe and then Daddy kissed’m, and, and-”

Bucky has to struggle to contain the laughter bubbling up from his chest as Natasha’s breath hitches on a sob and she buries her face in his chest. He and Steve had decided that one of them should dress up as Santa after Natasha’d gone to bed, just in case the kid woke up and snuck out of her room.

“She’s just so damn quiet,” Steve had snickered after they’d put her to bed one night last week. “She’d sneak up on us leavin’ presents before either of us even noticed she was there.”

So, Bucky had donned a red suit and hat and a fake beard last night as he and Steve had placed gifts under their tree. Bucky’d been coming back into the living room with a small gift for Steve in hand when he’d run into his husband in the doorway where they’d hung a sprig of mistletoe.

“Oh my,” Steve had smirked as he glanced down at Bucky, blue eyes shining as he’d cupped Bucky’s face. “I don’t know that my husband would approve, Santa, but rules are rules.”

“True,” Bucky had quipped as Steve leaned in. “I’d have to put you on the naughty list if you didn’t kiss me, Steven.”

Bucky supposes that’s when his daughter had crept down the hall and seen the two of them exchange a quick kiss.

Steve’s right, Bucky reflects. The kid is _way_ too quiet.

“Shhh, Natasha, it’s all right,” Bucky coos, pulling back so he can wipe the tears from her face, the gears in his mind running full speed as he whips up an explanation for his child. “It’s ok, honey, really. Daddy kisses Santa every year to thank him for bringing you presents. So do I.”

“I didn’t see _you_ kiss Santa,” Natasha eyes Bucky suspiciously, and by god, it’s uncanny because that’s definitely something she’s picked up from Steve and it’s the cutest damn thing Bucky’s ever seen.

“Did ya stick around, malyutka?” Bucky chuckles, grinning down at his daughter. She frowns, little brow scrunched up as she surveys him.

“Well, no,” she admits, green eyes darting toward the kitchen door as she hears movement from the hallway. “I was too upset. I went back to bed.”

“Well, you have nothing to worry about, baby girl,” Bucky laughs, refilling Natasha’s glass of apple juice, dropping his voice as he hears Steve move through the living room. “Your Daddy and I love each other very much, ok?”

“Ok,” Natasha smiles up at Bucky as he slides the cinnamon rolls into the oven, her tears gone as Steve stumbles into the kitchen.

“Why’n’t ya wake me?” the blond grumbles, heading straight for the coffee pot and pouring himself a mug. “Everythin’ all right?”

“Everything’s fine, Daddy,” Natasha beams as she runs to him, wrapping her arms around one of his legs as she looks up at him adoringly. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, angel,” Steve smiles, running a hand through her red curls and then grinning at Bucky before asking her, “You ready to open presents?”

 

* * *

 

“So, what was up with you two not wakin’ me?” Steve whispers as he and Bucky sit on their couch, watching Natasha tear through her gifts like a whirling dervish.

“She saw you kissing Santa,” Bucky replies softly, and has to stifle a giggle as Steve snorts.

“What’s so funny?” Natasha’s sharp green eyes focus in on the two of them as she smiles, momentarily distracted from her gifts.

“Nothin’, kiddo,” Steve chuckles. “Papa and I are just happy you seem to like all your presents. Santa did a good job, huh?”

“Yeah he did!” Natasha exclaims, back to tearing through wrapping paper a moment later.

“She was very concerned about it,” Bucky whispers, running a gentle thumb across Steve’s jaw line.

“What’d you tell her?” Steve asks, leaning forward to nuzzle his nose against Bucky’s.

“That we both kiss Santa every year to thank him for bringin’ her presents,” Bucky grins wryly, and Steve huffs out a soft laugh.

“Not bad,” Steve replies, his eyes narrowing as a slow smirk spreads across his face. Bucky knows that look well, knows it means nothing but trouble.

“You know,” Steve leans in to whisper in Bucky’s ear, voice low and raspy in a way that has goosebumps racing down Bucky’s arms. “We wouldn’t wanna _lie_ to her, would we? Guess I’m gonna have to put the Santa suit on later so that we’re not fibbin’.”

“Oh, but what will my husband say, Santa?” Bucky sighs as Steve’s lips trail down his neck, nipping lightly at the flesh.

“No need to worry about your husband, doll,” Steve teases, blue eyes bright as he looks at Bucky. “Not if you’re a good boy for me.”

Bucky laughs softly, pulling Steve in for a quick kiss. “God, but we’re lucky aren’t we?”

Steve’s eyes drift to their daughter, crinkling at the corners as he smiles, and then meet Bucky’s. “Yeah, I’d say we’re about the luckiest guys on the planet right about now. Merry Christmas, Buck.”

“Merry Christmas, Steve,” Bucky replies, laughing as Natasha launches herself at the two of them with a giggle, showing off the stuffed elephant Santa brought her.

Bucky gazes at the two of them, his Steve and his Natasha, and thinks that there’s not a Christmas present on earth that could hold a candle to these two gifts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! You can send requests via [tumblr](http://emphasisonem.tumblr.com/) or just pop 'em in the comments :)


	13. Snowball Throwing, That’s What I’ll Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What are you doin’?” Steve asks, backing up as Bucky begins to stride toward him, a mischievous gleam in his eye.
> 
> “You started it, Rogers,” Bucky quips, then takes aim and lets the snowball fly from his hand. Steve doesn’t react in time, and it hits him square in the face.
> 
> “You-” Steve growls, but there’s a playful grin turning up the corners of his mouth- “Are so dead, Barnes.”
> 
> **In which Steve makes the mistake of tossing a snowball at Bucky while he's on a ladder.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just two giants dorks having a quick snowball fight :) Sorry there's not more to it; it feels like I've been on the edge of an anxiety attack for most of the day and I'm not sure why? So writing was a little tricky. Anyway, I hope you guys like it!
> 
> The title's a lyric from the song ["Snow"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CH2KGboA35c) from _White Christmas_.

Bucky’s not sure who just threw a fucking snowball at the back of his head, but he supposes he ought to be grateful that it hit him as he was climbing down the last couple rungs of his ladder after he’d finished putting up his Christmas lights. Bucky falls about a foot or so with a surprised yelp, landing in the snow in his yard with a soft thud.

“Oh, shit!” Bucky closes his eyes and exhales a breathless laugh because he’s gotten to know that voice fairly well over the past six months or so. A moment later, Steve Rogers’s handsome face is hovering over his own, hands gripping Bucky’s shoulders gingerly.

For a moment, Bucky allows himself to get lost in Steve’s bright blue eyes, now wide with panic. He figures they’re probably the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen, even if there’s too much worry swirling within them at the moment. Bucky likes it better when they’re dancing with laughter.

Steve had moved into the house next door in mid-July, and the first glimpse Bucky’d gotten of the guy had been Steve, his white t-shirt soaked with sweat clinging to his well-muscled abdomen, moving boxes into the place on his own. Bucky’d offered to help, and they’d been pals ever since.

Of course, Steve’s handsome face, broad shoulders and slim hips make being just friends with him something of a challenge, but hey, Bucky’s glad to have a guy like Steve in his life, no matter the nature of their relationship.

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice finally breaks through Bucky’s reverie, and he shakes his head as though clearing his thoughts. A wicked idea occurs to him, then; he can play this up to make Steve feel guilty _and_ get back at the blond in one fell swoop.

“Bucky, god, are you all right?” Steve breathes as Bucky blinks up at him, the brunet furrowing his brow in an effort to look confused. “Man, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for that to hit ya until you made it off the ladder. I threw it too damn hard. Did ya hit your head or anythin’ when you fell? Should we get you to the emergency room?”

“I think I’m ok,” Bucky groans, trying not to smile as he shifts. “Thought I was a half-decent neighbor, Rogers, but I’ve clearly overestimated my appeal if you’re tryin’ to kill me with snowballs.”

Steve’s so focused on Bucky’s face, on inspecting his head for damage, that he doesn’t notice Bucky’s hand clench at the snow on the ground. So he’s not exactly expecting it when Bucky mushes a fistful of snow into the side of his pretty face. The sound that leaves Steve’s mouth is high and indignant, and Bucky rolls away from Steve as fast as he can, giggling maniacally.

“You shit!” Steve exclaims, a wide, disbelieving smile spreading across his lips as he jumps to his feet and begins to move toward Bucky. “You fuckin’ tricked me.”

Bucky pulls himself up off the ground, panting a little as he smirks at Steve, brow quirking as he replies, “You threw a fuckin’ snowball at me while I was on a ladder, and _I’m_ the shit?”

Steve’s face, already flushed from the cold, goes a shade darker as he stammers, “Yeah, but I didn’t _mean_ for it to hit ya until-”

“Until I was on the ground,” Bucky deadpans. “So I heard.”

Bucky squats down, gathering up snow in his hands and forming a compact little ball. When he looks up, Steve’s eyes are narrowed in confusion.

“What are you doin’?” Steve asks, backing up as Bucky begins to stride toward him, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“You started it, Rogers,” Bucky quips, then takes aim and lets the snowball fly from his hand. Steve doesn’t react in time, and it hits him square in the face.

“You-” Steve growls, but there’s a playful grin turning up the corners of his mouth- “Are so dead, Barnes.”

 

* * *

 

The sight of Bucky breathless with laughter as the two of them clumsily hurl snowballs at one another is maybe the prettiest thing Steve’s ever seen. There’s snow clinging to the ends of his long, dark hair, his cheeks are pink from the cold and the exertion, and his eyes are wide and bright as Steve chases him.

“Truce!” Bucky shouts, gasping with laughter as Steve tackles him to the ground a few minutes later. “Truce, Steve, please!”

Steve’s hovering over Bucky, and he can feel a wide smile forming on his face as he holds the snowball aloft.

“I dunno,” Steve hums, his arm tightening around Bucky’s midsection. “Kinda have ya right where I want ya, ya dirty sneak.”

Steve doesn’t miss the way Bucky’s breath hitches or the way those perfect blue-gray eyes of his dart to his lips as he leans closer and whispers, “Although, I might be swayed to call a truce on one condition.”

“Yeah?” Bucky rasps, eyes sparkling with an unspoken challenge. “What’s that?”

Steve bridges the short gap between the two of them, his lips just touching Bucky’s. He waits a beat in case he’s read the situation wrong, in case this isn’t something his friend wants.

But every ounce of doubt exits his mind as Bucky tugs Steve in by his scarf and captures the blond’s mouth in a kiss. Steve drops the snowball, wrapping his arms around Bucky and pulling him close. The kiss is innocent- slow and sweet and easy- but it still leaves Steve breathless.

Bucky’s the one who pulls back first, his smile suddenly bashful as he looks up at Steve through dark lashes.

“Been wonderin’ what that would feel like for a while now,” he admits, running a gentle finger along Steve’s cheek.

“Me too,” Steve grins, pushing himself up and extending a hand to Bucky and tugging the other man up along with him. “Now, come on. I make a mean hot cocoa, and we both need warmin’ up. Don’t need you dyin’ of hypothermia or somethin’ after you managed to survive that horrific fall, ya know?”

Bucky laughs as Steve rolls his eyes, tightening his grip on the other man’s hand as Steve leads Bucky to his house. Once they’re inside, Bucky presses Steve up against a wall in the front hallway, and Steve can’t help the small gasp that leaves him as Bucky smirks at him, wedging a knee between Steve’s thighs and applying steady pressure.

“You know-” Bucky purrs as he tugs at the zipper of Steve’s parka- “I’ve heard there are better ways to warm up than drinkin’ hot chocolate. Whaddaya think?”

Steve barks out a laugh, his hands tightening on Bucky’s hips.

“I think the hot chocolate can wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Requests are welcome via [tumblr](http://emphasisonem.tumblr.com/) or the comments :)


	14. But Every Day’s a Holiday When I’m Near To You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky rolls his eyes, digging into his pocket as he says, “Have it your way, then. I just came by to give you your Christmas gift before I fly back to Indiana for the holiday.”
> 
> Steve blinks, mouth widening in an ‘O’ of surprise before he blurts, “My what?”
> 
> “Your Christmas gift,” Bucky repeats, his voice soft and his smile shy. Steve’s heart aches at the sight because this is the Bucky Barnes he could be head over heels for if he wasn’t so goddamn scared of what might happen. “I thought you’d like it.”
> 
>  
> 
> **In which Steve receives a present from a fellow teacher before the holiday break.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work has been very busy and kind of strange lately, but it was lovely to decompress with this little bit of fluff when I got home. Hope you all like it! 
> 
> The title is from the cheeseball Carpenters classic ["Merry Christmas Darling."](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YR1ujXx2p-I) The video is prime late '70s schmaltz and I love it.

“What are you still doin’ here, Rogers? Thought you’d be at least halfway to Brooklyn by now.”

Steve looks up from the stack of papers he’s placing in his messenger bag and is greeted by a grinning Bucky Barnes. The dark-haired history teacher leans against the doorframe, lithe body on full display in a way that always manages to short circuit Steve’s brain for a moment or two. Eventually, the muscles in his face remember how to smile back.

“Just gettin’ ready to head out,” Steve replies. “Couple of students wanted to chat before they left for the day.”

“So attentive to the tender youth we’re tasked with preparing for the great wide world,” Bucky chuckles, striding toward Steve’s desk. It’s impossible to maintain eye contact with Bucky as he walks, the grace of his movement highlighting his tall, wiry frame. When Steve finally manages to drag his gaze back upward, Bucky’s steely eyes are equal parts amused and calculating.

“Like what you see, Rogers?” Bucky drawls, that lazy smirk of his curling across his lips in a way that strikes Steve as distinctly feline. But then, Bucky generally reminds Steve of a big jungle cat. Powerful. Confident. Predatory.

He fights the shiver building at the base of his spine, and smiles benignly as he answers, “Just wonderin’ where you got that sweater. It’s nice.”

“Can’t believe you’re gonna keep up this ridiculous game of yours, Steve,” Bucky chuckles as he settles into one of the student’s desks, the long line of his body folding in a way that reads as relaxed yet in control. “It’s Christmas, for god’s sake. Give a guy a break.”

“No idea what you’re talkin’ about, Barnes,” Steve murmurs, running a hand through his short hair. But the thing is, Steve knows _exactly_ what Bucky’s talking about.

The two of them have been playing this game of cat and mouse for over a year now. Pursuer and pursued. Predator and prey. And Steve is so tempted to let Bucky catch him.

The idea of things going wrong when the two of them have to see each other every day in the halls is the only thing stopping Steve from just giving in to what he wants. Because despite the cocksure attitude, the confident swagger, the lazy smirks, Bucky Barnes is an incredible man. It’s been apparent since Steve started teaching at this high school in Westchester County that the brunet is intelligent and kind, and best of all he makes Steve laugh. And Steve has no doubt that if he lets himself, he’d fall in love with the other man.

 _Too risky_ , the nagging voice in his head chirps. _Way too risky. Because somebody like that isn’t going to want a quiet, homebody art teacher forever._ _And you know you won’t be happy with anything less than that._

Bucky rolls his eyes, digging into his pocket as he says, “Have it your way, then. I just came by to give you your Christmas gift before I fly back to Indiana for the holiday.”

Steve blinks, mouth widening in an ‘O’ of surprise before he blurts, “My what?”

“Your Christmas gift,” Bucky repeats, his voice soft and his smile shy. Steve’s heart aches at the sight because _this_ is the Bucky Barnes he could be head over heels for if he wasn’t so goddamn scared of what might happen. "Just somethin' I thought you'd like."

Bucky smoothes out a piece of crinkled paper, holding it out to Steve. Steve reaches for it gingerly, blue eyes narrowed at Bucky as he pinches it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Stop glarin’ at me and look at it, Rogers,” Bucky chuckles, and Steve thinks the other man might actually be blushing as he ducks his head. Steve reads the paper, breath catching in his throat. Because he’s holding a receipt for the opening night of _Things I Have No Words For: Georgie O’Keeffe at MoMA._ Which should be _impossible_ because those tickets don’t go on sale until February.

“How?” Steve asks, unable to keep from smiling as he gazes at the brunet sitting before him.

“I have a connection,” Bucky smiles sheepishly, wringing his hands as he looks up at Steve. “And I know Georgia’s your favorite, so.”

“I can’t believe you remembered that,” Steve replies, shaking his head as he grins at the other man.

“Yeah, well,” Bucky mumbles, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “I remember a lot of things about the people I like.”

“Buck, this is,” Steve breathes, unable to keep a breathless laugh from exiting his lips. “This is _way_ too much. I didn’t get you anything, and-”

“Doesn’t matter,” Bucky grins, standing from the desk, running a hand through his longish hair. “I just. I wanted to get you somethin’ nice. I don’t need anythin’ in return except to know you had a good time, all right? Merry Christmas, Steve. I’ll see ya when we’re back from break.”

And as Bucky heads toward the classroom door, Steve decides he’s done playing this game. He moves quickly, rounding his desk in a few long strides and walking to Bucky, shoulders squared. Bucky must hear his footsteps because he turns, and Steve takes the opportunity to grab the other man’s shoulders and push him back against the bare wall beside the doorframe.

“Steve?” Bucky’s voice is breathy and uncertain, eyes wide with surprise as he looks up at Steve.

“You’ll know if I have a good time-” Steve smiles as he leans forward, delighting in the way Bucky’s gaze flicks to his lips- “Because you’ll be there with me.”

And without giving Bucky a chance to respond, Steve’s closing the gap between them, slotting their mouths together in a soft kiss. Bucky’s hands fly out to grip Steve’s hips, and Steve can feel the other man’s lips curling into a smile against his own.

They break for air a moment later, cheeks flushed and chests heaving, grinning at each other in a way that Steve thinks would probably make bystanders nauseated.

“Do I lose points if I tell you I was hopin’ that this is how you’d react?” Bucky sighs, a hand reaching up to cup Steve’s face.

Steve huffs out a laugh, resting his forehead against Bucky’s own. “No, you don’t lose points. I’d’ve been crazy not to kiss you after that.”

“I mean, I’d have to agree with that assessment,” Bucky chuckles, gray eyes full of an emotion Steve’s a little wary of naming. “But, honestly, I was startin’ to think you might never come around.”

“Yeah, well, consider it your Christmas gift, Barnes,” Steve teases, and Bucky’s answering peal of laughter is the prettiest sound Steve thinks he’s ever heard.

“Works for me,” Bucky replies, kissing Steve’s lips gently before stepping back. “Now get goin’, and tell your ma Merry Christmas from me. I can’t wait to meet her.”

The certainty in Bucky’s voice has warmth blooming in Steve’s chest as he kisses Bucky just one more time. “I’ll tell her. Merry Christmas, Bucky.”

And as Bucky walks down the hallway, throwing a wink over his shoulder as he rounds the corner, Steve’s kind of already looking forward to next Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!


	15. Guide Us To Thy Perfect Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve’s been looking for the perfect tree-topper since the beginning of November, and he’s _finally_ found it. With just over two weeks to go before Christmas, he sends up a silent prayer of thanks for the gorgeous golden Star of Bethlehem beaming down at him. It’s beautiful without being too flashy, and the lighting from within gives it a lovely, warm glow.
> 
> Naturally, it’s well out of Steve’s reach.
> 
> **In which a stranger helps Steve out and asks for a little something in return.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one because today was just Not Good. The other person who works in my department was let go, so it was a very taxing day, both mentally and emotionally. It was very hectic, and I'm probably going to be insanely busy tomorrow, too, so there's a possibility that you'll get two ficlets on Saturday due to lack of time and energy tomorrow. So, apologies if this is a little weak, but I didn't want to leave you guys hanging with no explanation. I'm fine, I promise, just very, very tired.
> 
> The title of this is from a line in "We Three Kings." The song itself is cool, but I actually prefer [a mashup kind of thing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HGVNzgUxE-g) that the Barenaked Ladies and Sarah McLachlan did :)

Steve’s been looking for the perfect tree-topper since the beginning of November, and he’s _finally_ found it. With just over two weeks to go before Christmas, he sends up a silent prayer of thanks for the gorgeous golden Star of Bethlehem beaming down at him. It’s beautiful without being too flashy, and the lighting from within gives it a lovely, warm glow.

Naturally, it’s well out of Steve’s reach.

Given that Steve’s on the skinny side in addition to being short, he could probably just climb the shelving and grab it on his own. Under normal circumstances, that’s _exactly_ what he would do. But the shelves don’t look particularly sturdy, and they’re filled with fragile Christmas ornaments sparkling in the fluorescent lighting of the department store. The last thing he wants to do is send them crashing to the ground; they’re awfully nice and he doesn’t have the money to pay for all of them.

Steve glances around the Christmas display, wondering if there’s an employee nearby he can ask for help, when a deep voice behind him says, “Excuse me, can I just grab one of these boxes of icicle ornaments?”

Steve whirls, backing up a few steps and grinning apologetically up at the stranger. “Shit, man, I’m sorry. So busy lookin’ for an employee I wasn’t payin’ attention to my surroundings.”

“No problem, pal,” the man smiles, and Steve can’t help but mirror the expression. The guy’s handsome, almost rugged-looking, his high cheekbones and sharp jaw covered in a fine layer of stubble. He’s broad in a way that suggests he spends plenty of time at the gym or maybe does some kind of manual labor to pay the bills, but there’s still a softness to him. Steve thinks it’s the way his grin reaches his beautiful gray eyes, the way they seem to dance with laughter.

“You tryna reach somethin’?” the man asks, eyes darting away shyly before meeting Steve’s again. “I could, uh, help you out if you want?”

“Oh,” Steve replies, trying not to blush as the stranger gives him an appraising once over. It’s a little surprising- Steve knows his diminutive stature makes him more attractive to some guys, but he doesn’t come across them often- but not unwelcome. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll just wait for somebody who works here to come help me out. Thanks, though.”

“Well, lucky for you, I do work here,” the other man winks, reaching up and snatching the star with ease. “Just not on the floor. I’m a warehouse guy because I’m not customer service material. Or that’s what they tell me, anyway.”

Steve chuckles, reaching out and waiting for the brunet to hand over the tree topper. “Given the fact that you just helped me out when you’re clearly off duty, I’m having kind of a hard time believing that.”

The other man’s smile morphs into a smirk as his gray eyes narrow a little, and that look has Steve a bit breathless if he’s being honest with himself.

“Would it be easier for you to believe if I threatened to withhold this lovely star- great choice, by the way- until you agree to get a cup of coffee with me?”

Steve knows he should be annoyed by this. Any reasonable person would lodge a complaint against the guy. But the way he grins at Steve is so sincere, so genuine, that he knows the brunet will give him the star whether or not he agrees to a coffee date. And he kind of really wants to agree to a coffee date with this gorgeous man.

“It would be, yeah,” Steve deadpans, trying to feign annoyance, but he can’t quite keep the pleased smile from his face as he continues, “Though, I guess the least I could do is buy you a hot beverage since you were such a Good Samaritan today.”

The guy laughs, then, a deep, rumbling sound and extends his hand. “James Barnes, but everybody calls me Bucky. And you are?”

“Steve Rogers,” Steve replies, relishing the broad, warm hand wrapped around his own. Bucky just keeps smiling and continues to hold his hand until Steve has to say, “You gonna hold my hand all day or are you gonna let me pay for this star so we can go?”

Bucky drops his hand immediately, blushing to the roots of his hair as he tries to stammer out an apology. Steve shakes his head, reaching out to grab Bucky's hand again and dragging him toward a register.

“Coulda just said you wanted to keep holdin’ my hand, you know,” Steve winks up at him, surprising a chuckle out of Bucky. “Not gonna deny a guy a simple pleasure like that at Christmas.”

“Guess you’re a pretty Good Samaritan, too,” Bucky quips, clearly pleased as the two of them stroll along. 

Steve shrugs, grinning mischievously up at the other man. “Nah, not really. You’re just hot.”

Bucky’s answering laugh is so loud that it startles a couple of middle-aged women looking at decorations nearby, but Steve barely notices their disapproving glances. After all, he’s got an impromptu date with a pretty brunet _and_ he managed to find the perfect tree topper. A bona fide Christmas miracle if ever there was one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	16. As Long As You Love Me So

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Bucky,” Steve glowers, thrusting a hand outward. It doesn’t surprised Bucky that he’s holding their copy of Die Hard. “Why is this in the pile of movies for our Christmas films marathon?”
> 
> “Uh-” Bucky’s lips quirk up in a smirk- “That would be because it’s a Christmas movie, Steven.”
> 
> **Bucky and Steve have a disagreement and make a little wager.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting this up, friends. Friday was kind of insane, and I just needed a chill day yesterday. I know we're a little behind, but we'll catch up, I promise :) I'm hoping to get another ficlet up later today, but it's family Christmas party day, so we'll see how that goes. I do have Monday and Tuesday off, though, so I'll have more free time soon.
> 
> I thought this would be a funny little fic because it's a standard argument among my family and friends every December. 
> 
> The title of this fic is from the song "Let It Snow." Vaughn Monroe does [the version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RWTQqpYBHQ8) that plays at the end of _Die Hard_ , but my favorite version is [Lady Ella's.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RXNt6sTXsI4)

Steve pads into the kitchen on slippered feet as Bucky’s preparing hot chocolate, clearing his throat, and Bucky knows before he even turns around that his boyfriend is going to be glaring down at him, arms crossed over his broad chest, lips a thin hard line. It’s a struggle to keep from grinning as he faces Steve, but Bucky manages it somehow.

“Hey there, handsome,” Bucky greets him, giving the cocoa on the stove one last stir. “Beverages are ready. Even got little marshmallows and whipped cream. Should be great with those cookies you baked earlier.”

“Bucky,” Steve glowers, thrusting a hand outward. It doesn’t surprised Bucky that he’s holding their copy of _Die Hard_. “Why is this in the pile of movies for our Christmas films marathon?”

“Uh-” Bucky’s lips quirk up in a smirk- “That would be because it’s a Christmas movie, Steven.”

“This is absolutely, one hundred percent, _not a Christmas movie,_ ” Steve’s practically seething, but Bucky thinks he can see a little amusement in those big blue eyes of his. Bucky pours the hot chocolate into a couple of mugs, adding the requisite marshmallows and whipped cream before turning to Steve with a smile.

“It’s set at Christmastime, Steve,” Bucky replies, striding out of the kitchen with mugs in hand. “Grab the cookies, won’t you, doll?”

“That doesn’t make it a Christmas movie,” Steve sputters, following Bucky into their living room with cookies in hand.

“Oh?” Bucky quirks a brow as he settles onto their couch, placing the mugs onto their coffee table before patting the space beside him. “And, praytell, arbiter of cheer, what _does_ make something a Christmas movie?”

“Well, a sense of hope for one,” Steve grumbles as he places the cookies on the table and sinks into the couch.

“I, for one, am filled with hope while watching one man take down a whole group of German terrorists,” Bucky smirks. “So that’s one.”

“Well, some Christmas-y music is a must,” Steve grins. “And I don’t remember any Christmas carols in this movie, hon.”

“Then you weren’t payin’ attention, doll,” Bucky chuckles, kissing Steve’s cheek. “‘Christmas in Hollis’ by Run-D.M.C. shows up in the limousine driver’s car and the last shot is set to ‘Let It Snow.’”

“Bucky,” Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s just. It doesn’t _feel_ like a Christmas movie.”

Bucky laughs, pulling Steve close so he can nuzzle into the other man’s neck. “Tell you what, Stevie, we’ll put a pin in watchin’ that one for now, all right? But I have a little wager for ya, if you’re interested.”

“Do tell,” Steve grins, and Bucky’s breath catches a little at the look in his boyfriend’s eyes. Some people think Steve’s competitive streak is a little overwhelming; Bucky just finds it incredibly hot.

“We each do a Twitter poll,” Bucky smirks, kissing Steve’s lips gently. “We ask our followers ‘Is Die Hard a Christmas movie?’ The only acceptable answers are yes or no.”

“And the winner?” Steve chuckles, running gentle fingers through Bucky’s dark hair.

“Hmmm,” Bucky taps his chin theatrically, grinning as Steve giggles at his exaggerated movements. “Maybe the winner gets to fuck the loser?”

“Well, then-” Steve’s voice is lower, raspier, as he pulls Bucky into another kiss. “You might as well get that ass ready for me sweetheart.”

“You win the Twitter poll, and I will,” Bucky breathes, extricating himself from the blond’s grasp. “Now, which one of these do you wanna watch first?” 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe our idiot friends - oh, _fuck_ , Bucky - think _Die Hard_ is a Christmas movie.”

Steve’s breathing hard as he lies on his stomach, hips grinding into the mattress as Bucky’s eats him out. Steve hates losing, but he supposes Bucky’s tongue in his ass is a decent consolation prize. He can feel the vibrations of Bucky’s laugh as he sucks at the puckered flesh.

Steve’s hands fist in the sheets as Bucky pulls back, replacing his tongue with a well-lubricated finger. The digit circles his hole before pressing in gently, and Steve groans at the feeling. Bucky’s chuckling as he leans down to kiss the small of Steve’s back.

“Our idiot friends are the best,” Bucky replies, crooking his finger in a way that’s got Steve seeing stars before adding a second and scissoring them. “And now you’ll get to bring new meaning to the term ‘sore loser.’”

“I hate you,” Steve laughs, groaning as Bucky begins to fuck him with his fingers in earnest. “Fuck, baby, come on.”

“You love me,” Bucky breathes, and Steve moans as he drags his fingers out, then flips him over and grabs his thighs. “Gonna make you feel so good, Steve.”

No matter how many times the two of them do this, Bucky sliding into him or Steve sliding into Bucky, it’s always like coming home. Bucky bottoms out, his hands skating up Steve’s body as the blond wraps his legs around Bucky. The brunet’s fingers eventually entwine with Steve’s before he begins to thrust.

“Fuck, Stevie,” Bucky rasps as his hips roll. “So fuckin’ good, doll. God, I love you.”

“Love you too,” Steve moans as Bucky releases his hands to grip his hips, hands scrabbling for purchase on Bucky’s shoulders as he arches to meet Bucky’s thrusts. “Buck, _please_.”

“Gotcha, Steve,” Bucky murmurs as he peppers soft kisses along Steve’s neck even as he increases his pace. “I gotcha, baby doll.”

Steve keens as Bucky’s strong, slender fingers circle his cock and begin to stroke him in time with each of Bucky’s thrusts. Bucky slides back and forth slow and steady, increasing his pace gradually as the two of them move together. Steve’s already a wreck, covered in a light sheen of sweat, stammering and cursing and shuddering, but he couldn’t give a shit because Bucky’s got him so close he can taste it.

“Buck,” Steve grits out, eyes squeezing shut as he tosses his head back. “Baby, I- I-”

“Go on, then,” Bucky groans. “Come for me, sweetheart. Wanna feel you, Stevie.”

Steve sobs out a breath, hips bucking erratically, and with a practiced flick of the wrist, Bucky’s got Steve spilling over his hand and onto both of their stomachs, whimpering Bucky’s name. Bucky follows Steve a moment later with a quiet groan and a whispered, “Love you, Stevie.”

Bucky pulls out after a moment, flopping beside Steve with pleased exhale. He rolls onto his side to face Steve, so Steve does the same, smiling as Bucky cups his face in his hands.

“Hey,” Bucky whispers, thumbs skating across Steve’s cheekbones before he leans in for a quick kiss.

“Hey yourself,” Steve replies, pulling Bucky close so that he can wrap his arms around the other man, delighting in the way Bucky buries his face in the crook of his neck and shoulder. “We oughta make sex bets more often.”

Steve can feel Bucky laughing against his skin, and then the other man is pulling back. “Come on, we need a shower. And then we need to watch the greatest Christmas movie of all time.”

“Aw, Buck, come on,” Steve whines as he rolls out of bed and follows Bucky to their bathroom. “Wasn’t losin’ the bet bad enough?”

“Look, Rogers,” Bucky smirks as he turns on the water, waiting for the spray to heat up before stepping in, pulling Steve along with him. “Bring the lube out with us. I’ll little spoon it, and if you get bored during the movie, you can fuck me. How’s that sound?”

“Bucky,” Steve exhales. “Jesus, let a guy recover, why don’t ya?”

“Oh, please,” Bucky rolls his eyes as he walks two fingers up Steve’s toned stomach. “I know that’s your favorite, baby doll. You like it best when I’m on my side, and I know you love the fact that when we’re on the couch I’m all pressed up against ya. Like bein’ able to wrap yourself around me.”

“Bucky,” Steve breathes, surprised at how quickly his desire is building. “Better hush that smart mouth of yours if you don’t want me to fuck you right here.”

“Yeah, you love it,” Bucky breathes, pushing Steve until the two of them hit the back wall of the shower, and _god_ but the hard, wet line of Bucky’s body feels positively sinful against his own. “Love bein’ able to kiss and bite at my neck and my ears because you know it drives me crazy. Grindin’ up against me ‘til I’m beggin’ for it. Givin’ it to me nice and slow because you’re such a sweetheart. That a good plan? What do you think, baby doll?”

Steve barks out a shaky laugh, then pulls Bucky into a languid kiss, rolling his hips against the brunet’s. He can’t keep the grin from his face as he replies, “I think I have a new favorite Christmas movie.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	17. What a Bright Time, It’s the Right Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That sounds really nice, Buck. I’d love to come by.”
> 
> Bucky lights up at that, and if Steve thought the smile on his face earlier was breathtaking, the way Bucky’s beaming at him now might actually kill him, it’s so gorgeous. 
> 
> “Really? You wanna come?”
> 
> “Yeah, Buck,” Steve laughs, placing a hand on Bucky’s forearm and squeezing gently before removing it. He hopes the wistful look on Bucky’s face isn’t just his imagination. “I do.”
> 
> **In which Bucky invites Steve to his parents' for Christmas so that he doesn't have to spend the holiday alone.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Straight up fluff because I finally had a free day (and a clear enough head) to really take my time with a story. Hope you guys like it!
> 
> The title is a lyric from ["Jingle Bell Rock"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=itcMLwMEeMQ) by Bobby Helms.

Bucky’s breaking down the refreshments table when he overhears Sam and Steve’s conversation. He’s been attending the group meetings at the VA nearest his apartment in Brooklyn at Sam’s assistance, but he largely goes without notice. Some people think he’s too quiet, but all that sniper training has left him with some hard habits to break.

“Aw, man, you shoulda said somethin’ sooner,” Sam pushes Steve’s shoulder gently, and Bucky just keeps shoving dry grocery store cookies into tupperware containers, pretending to be engrossed in what he’s doing so as not to draw attention to himself. “I’d’ve convinced Maria to stick around for my family’s Christmas thing if I knew you were gonna be alone this year.”

Bucky’s eyes dart up in time to catch Steve’s sheepish smile as he runs a hand through his short blond hair, a nervous tick Bucky’s found endearing since the moment he met the other man. “It’s no big deal, Sam. I’ve spent plenty of Christmases alone over the years. I’ll be fine.”

“Christmas isn’t supposed to be _fine_ , Rogers,” Sam rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as he glares up at Steve. “It’s supposed to be merry and magical. You know what, I’ll call my mom and tell her you might stop by for dinner. That way you’ve got somewhere to go if you get lonely.”

“That’s very thoughtful, Sam, but-”

“Do not ‘but’ me, Rogers,” Sam’s voice is hard and stern, but he eyes are smiling. Bucky has to bite back a snicker as he folds up a tablecloth and begins to break down the folding table. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, all right? But I don’t want you to be by yourself if you don’t wanna be. Besides, my mom loves you.”

“Fine, fine,” Steve holds up his hands in surrender as he grins. “I’m not gonna argue with you.”

“Damn straight you’re not,” Sam grumbles. “I’ll see you tomorrow, all right?” Sam turns then, clearing his throat as he calls, “Thanks for takin’ care of that refreshment table, Buck. See you soon, pal.”

Bucky raises a hand, lips quirking into a small smile as he waves. Sam nods; he knows better than to expect Bucky to say much outside of their private counseling sessions. He’s so focused on Sam’s retreating form that he nearly jumps when Steve says, “You need any help with that stuff, Buck?”

“Uh-” Bucky rasps, wincing at the almost rusty quality of his voice. Maybe he _should_ speak more often. “Sure, I guess.”

Steve smiles and strides over to him, and Bucky can’t help but appreciate the other man’s physique. Steve’s a little taller than he is, which is the second thing about him that had caught Bucky’s eye. The first had been those sapphire blue eyes of his, the little flecks of green in them just adding to their beauty. Steve’s eyes are soft, Bucky thinks. Kind. Bucky likes how big Steve is, likes his wide smile and his handsome features, but those eyes are something else. And Bucky’d have to be blind not to notice how often they’re trained on him.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like that.

Steve picks up the table and the tablecloth, following Bucky to the supply closet where they’re kept. They head to the kitchen to drop off the leftover cookies and juice and then grab their jackets from the coat room before exiting the VA building.

“Thanks for the help,” Bucky smiles, liking the way Steve’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he returns the grin. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.”

Steve’s brow furrows, smile still in place as he asks, “Don’t you live that way?”

Bucky looks in the direction Steve’s pointing, nodding in confirmation. Steve chuckles, placing a hand on Bucky’s upper back and pushing him gently. “I live that way too. I’ll walk with you.”

“Oh,” Bucky replies, blinking up at Steve. “Okay.”

Steve doesn’t remove his hand as they walk; it just drifts to the small of Bucky’s back. He decides not to comment on it and to enjoy the warmth of the man beside him.  
  


* * *

  
“You cold?” Steve asks, glancing down at Bucky. The brunet hasn’t said a word about Steve’s hand at his back, and he can’t help but mentally rejoice over that.

Steve’s been trying to figure Bucky out for months now, but the guy barely says two words to anybody and Steve’s afraid of pushing too hard too fast. After all, Bucky hasn’t been back all that long; he’d been part of a contingent sent into Iraq with the emergence of ISIS, but had been sent back to the states after nearly losing an arm. Honorable discharge and a Purple Heart, according to Sam. Bucky comes to the group meetings, but rarely participates. Sam never mentions anything about their private sessions, and Steve knows better than to ask, no matter how tempted he might be.

“A little bit,” Bucky replies, rubbing his gloved hands together. “You?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies with a grin, then points to a diner on the corner. “You wanna grab cup of coffee and some warm food?”

Bucky grins up at him, and god, Steve’s not sure he’s ever seen a smile that wide on the other man’s face. It’s breathtaking.

“This your way of tryin’ to get to know me since I don’t talk much, Rogers?” Bucky quips, gray eyes sparkling. “Coulda just talked to me over at the VA.”

Steve can feel a flush begin to suffuse his cheeks with color, but he just grins and asks, “Am I that transparent?”

Bucky shakes his head and walks toward the diner. Steve follows, admiring the graceful movement of the brunet’s lithe frame.

The two of them slide into an empty booth and a smiling middle-aged woman takes their orders, which leads to a heated argument over whether pancakes or waffles are superior.

“Look,” Bucky laughs, leaning forward, and Steve’s having trouble focusing on anything other than the way Bucky’s neck muscles are straining just a little bit. “You will never convince me that pancakes are better, Steve. Waffles have little compartments for syrup. That’s the end of the conversation as far as I’m concerned.”

“Heathen,” Steve sighs, taking a sip of his coffee before saying, “You know, you’re different outside of group.”

Bucky shrugs, a rueful grin on his face. “I’m better at one-on-one. Group settings make me a little nervous. I only go because Sam thinks it’s good for me and he doesn’t force me to open up in front of other people. Just wants me to listen and observe. To know I’m not the only one strugglin’, I guess.”

Steve nods, waiting for Bucky to continue. When the brunet begins speaking again, the topic of conversation he’s chosen throws Steve for a loop.

“So, I, uh, I kinda overheard you and Sam earlier,” Bucky says, pausing to smile up at the server as she sets their plates down in front of them. Steve watches Bucky begin to pour what is frankly an outrageous amount of syrup over his waffles as he continues. “You all right bein’ alone on Christmas? Because, I, um-”

Steve waits for a beat as Bucky pauses. When Bucky stays silent, Steve asks, “Yeah?”

“Well, my parents do this, like, open house thing on Christmas,” Bucky exhales, threading a hand through his long, dark hair. “Super casual, you know? And I thought, you know, maybe you’d wanna come and hang out for a bit? My ma’s a terrible cook, but she knows a great caterer, so the food’s always fantastic. Lotta neighbors stop by, and the neighborhood’s gotten younger lately, so there’s some single women.”

“Any single men?” Steve grins as he bites into a strip of bacon. “I’m an equal opportunity dater.”

“Uh, yeah,” Bucky blushes, staring down at his plate, and Steve thinks maybe the other man is smiling. “Yeah, one or two guys who’d probably be into you.”

_Is one of them you?_ Steve wants to ask. Instead he replies, “That sounds really nice, Buck. I’d love to come by.”

Bucky lights up at that, and if Steve thought the smile on his face earlier was breathtaking, the way Bucky’s beaming at him now might actually kill him, it’s so gorgeous. “Really? You wanna come?”

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve laughs, placing a hand on Bucky’s forearm and squeezing gently before removing it. He hopes the wistful look on Bucky’s face isn’t just his imagination. “I do.”

The two of them get back to chatting after a few moments of slightly awkward silence, and Steve marvels over how easy it is. They chat a little about their time in the service, but they focus more on their interests. They both love baseball and hockey, but could take or leave football. Bucky, for some unfathomable reason, prefers _Star Trek_ to _Star Wars_ , but Steve figures he can live with that since Bucky does like the original trilogy.

Bucky’s a really good listener, nodding along whenever Steve’s speaking and asking questions. Bucky laughs easier than Steve would have anticipated, a low, musical sound from deep in his throat that warms Steve from the inside out.

It wasn’t meant to be a date, but as Steve leaves Bucky at the door to his building, he’s more than a little tempted to give the other man a kiss goodnight.  
  


* * *

  
“Would you stop fidgeting for five seconds?” Becca huffs as she tugs on Bucky’s hair hard enough that he hisses through clenched teeth. “This braid is going to look terrible if you don’t fuckin’ sit still.”

“You are a tyrant, you know that?” Bucky snaps, causing Becca to pull his hair again. “Ow! Hey, it’s Christmas! Stop that!”

“Yeah, well, consider it payback for every time you yanked my pigtails when were were kids, big brother,” Becca giggles, slender fingers moving deftly. “And seriously, if you wanna look good for this guy, sit still and just trust me to dress you today, all right? You’re going to look very soft and adorable and he will be unable to resist kissing you under the mistletoe.”

“You’re such a sap,” Bucky murmurs, closing his eyes.

“Learned from the best, big brother.”

It’s been about a week since their impromptu meal in the diner, and Bucky’s like a cat on a hot tin roof as he waits for Steve to arrive. It doesn’t help matters that Sam had snagged him before Bucky left the VA toy drive a few days ago.

_“So, Steve’s hangin’ with you on Christmas?” Sam asks, his voice just a little too casual._

_“Yes,” Bucky replies, refusing to break eye contact with his counselor. “I thought it would be a nice gesture.”_

_“You realize he’s into you, right?” Sam smirks, eyes narrowing as he waits for Bucky’s reaction. “Wouldn’t do to get his hopes up during the holiday season. Steve’s a real softy; thinks Christmas is a romantic holiday.”_

_“It is,” Bucky answers. “And I don’t know about that, Sam, but I won’t complain if it turns out he’s into me. He’s a really good guy.”_

_“He is,” Sam nods, releasing Bucky’s arm and smiling. “Sorry about that. I get a little protective.”_

_“No!” Bucky gasps, hand clutching his chest in mock surprise. “You? Protective? I cannot believe that.”_

_“All right, sassy, relax,” Sam rolls his eyes, grinning. “Have a very Merry Christmas, Buck.”_

_“You do the same, Sam,” Bucky grins, pulling a small box out of his coat pocket. “Thanks for all your help over the last couple of months. I know you said no gifts, but it’s just a gift certificate to-”_

_“Get outta here before I smack you, Barnes,” Sam laughs, shoving him toward the door. “And thank you.”_

Bucky sighs, trying not to shift as his sister continues braiding and hoping desperately that Sam is right about Steve being interested in him.  
  


* * *

  
Steve’s not sure what he expecting when the door to Bucky’s apartment opens, but it’s not a pretty, petite brunette. Steve’s heart sinks for a moment; does Bucky have a _girlfriend?_

“Hi,” the young woman chirps, smiling up at him. “You must be Steve. I’m Becca, come on in.”

Becca gestures to the couch and Steve sits, calling out that he’s fine when she asks if he’d like a drink. He’s so wrapped up in trying to figure out why Bucky didn’t mention her that he starts when the other man’s soft, raspy voice sounds from across the room.

“I see you’ve met my baby sister.” Steve jerks, glancing up. Bucky’s standing in the doorway to the living room, a chagrined smile on his handsome face as Becca wanders back into the room, three beers in hand.

“I ignored what you said and got you a drink because you’ll need one for this party,” Becca explains as she hands Steve the bottle. “I’m assuming Bucky didn’t tell you how weird our family and friends are.”

“I figured they’d have to be kind of weird,” Steve replies, eyes never leaving Bucky. The other man is usually clad in dark, neutral colors, his long hair under a baseball cap, but not today. Today Bucky’s wearing nice, dark-wash jeans and a soft-cream colored sweater that’s just a little too big for him. His hair is braided back, accentuating his sharp cheekbones, and Steve wants nothing more than to tangle his hands in those gorgeous locks and kiss him until they’re both breathless.

“Thanks, Steve,” Bucky laughs, taking a pull from his bottle, and Steve can’t stop his eyes from following the motion of his Adam’s apple. When he glances over at Becca, the young woman is smiling at him, a knowing look in her warm hazel eyes.

“He’s right, though,” Becca grins. “We’re an odd bunch, but you’ll have fun. And our parents are going to _love_ you. Oh, Bucky, can you grab my phone? I left it in the kitchen and I just sat down.”

“Helpless,” Bucky rolls his eyes, but strides into the kitchen. Steve looks back at Becca, who’s watching him intently.

“Why are your parents going to love me?” he asks.

“Are you kidding?” Becca grins. “They’d be crazy not to love anybody who looks at one of their kids the way you look at Bucky. I absolutely approve too, for the record.”

Steve huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “Glad to hear it.”  
  


* * *

  
“You brought a date!” Winnie Barnes exclaims as she throws open the door to the Brooklyn brownstone where Bucky grew up.

“Merry Christmas to you too, ma,” Bucky chuckles, pulling his mother into a quick embrace. “This is Steve, my _friend_ from the VA that I told you about.”

“You have good taste in _friends_ ,” Winnie winks, mimicking Bucky’s emphasis, and he’s not sure whether he wants to laugh or to hightail it out of there before this gets embarrassing, but then his mother’s pulling him into the house. Steve and Becca follow, and there’s an amused smile on Steve’s face when Bucky turns to mouth ‘I’m sorry.’

“Steve is it?” Winnie asks once they’re all inside and she’s taking their coats. The house is mostly empty this early on, and it’s kind of nice. “I’m Winnie. No ‘Mrs. Barnes’ here, all right? You military boys always make me feel so old with your wonderful manners.”

Steve laughs, extending his hand. But instead of shaking his mother’s hand, he kisses it, and Bucky’s not sure who’s going to faint first- his mother or him. “Pleasure to meet you, Winnie. I see now where Bucky got those lovely eyes of his.”

“Oh my,” Winnie giggles, blushing like a schoolgirl, and Bucky actually has to pinch Becca to stop her from snickering. “What a charmer. No wonder Bucky always mentions you when he visits for Sunday dinners.”

Steve turns to grin at Bucky, surprise evident in his eyes. “Really? I had no idea I was such a celebrity.”

“Why don’t we go find my dad?” Bucky chokes out, grabbing Steve’s arm and pulling him away from the foyer, trying to ignore the excited whispering that’s started up behind them. “I’m sure he’d love to meet you too.”

_And_ , Bucky thinks, _he’s slightly less likely to make me want to crawl under the floorboards._  
  


* * *

  
Steve can’t remember the last time he’d had such a nice, relaxed holiday. Bucky’s family and friends are all very nice and clearly seem to think that the two of them are a couple. Steve has no problem with this or with the fact that they keep making Bucky blush. It’s maybe the most adorable thing he’s ever seen.

“I’m, uh, I’m gonna grab some air quick,” Bucky rasps as one of his grandmothers fusses over Steve, moving quickly toward the stairs. Steve waits a few minutes, excusing himself politely to find Bucky’s father.

“George,” Steve grins. “Sorry to bother you. I think Buck got a little overwhelmed and I just wanna make sure he’s all right. Can you tell me which room upstairs was his when he lived here?”

George laughs, taking a quick sip of his beer. “You know my son well. Up the stairs, second door on the right. Thanks for lookin’ out for him, Steve.”

Steve nods, then makes his way upstairs. He knocks softly on the door, getting a soft “Who is it?” in reply.

“It’s Steve,” he says. “Mind if I come in?”

The door opens slowly, and Bucky’s gray eyes are uncertain as they look up at him. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Steve chuckles. “You gonna let me in?”

“I guess,” Bucky sighs, stepping back. Steve pushes the door open, stepping into the room and closing it behind him. “Look, I’m sorry if this has been weird for you. It’s been a while since I brought anybody home, and if I so much as mention somebody in casual conversation, they just assume we’re datin’ and-”

“Bucky,” Steve grins, placing gentle hands on Bucky’s shoulders. “Relax, ok? I really don’t mind. I think it’s nice your family’s so excited and, like, _super_ accepting. Your happiness is clearly very important to them. I’m flattered, frankly.”

“You’re-” Bucky’s eyes narrow incredulously. “You’re flattered?”

“Of course I am,” Steve replies. “For them to think I’m good enough for you? That’s kind of incredible, Buck. Of course, their opinions aren’t really the most important in this situation.”

“What situation is that?” Bucky asks, eyes widening as Steve leans forward. Bucky’s breath is warm as it ghosts over Steve’s skin, and _god_ , but he smells incredible. Steve wants to wrap them two of them up, to crawl under the covers of Bucky’s childhood bed and luxuriate in the other man’s presence.

And, okay, to kiss Bucky until he can’t think straight. That too.

“The situation where I think you are maybe interested in me,” Steve replies, pleased at how even his voice sounds even though it feels like he might vibrate out of his own skin at any second. “But I really need to know for sure. Because I would really like to get to know you much better, Bucky. To date you. Even if you are a heathen who prefers waffles to pancakes and uses way, _way_ too much syrup.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Bucky deadpans, but Steve doesn’t miss the breathy tone of his voice. “Here I was thinkin’ those might be dealbreakers for ya.”

“Anybody ever tell you that you got a smart mouth, Barnes,” Steve grins, lips just barely brushing Bucky’s, delighting at the shiver he feels running through the brunet’s body.

“What are you gonna do about it, Rogers?” Bucky breathes, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist.

Steve cups Bucky’s face, then captures the other man’s lips in a soft, sweet kiss. Bucky sighs, going pliant against Steve, and Steve can’t resist running his hands down Bucky’s body, rolling his hips forward as he presses them against the small of Bucky’s back.

Bucky moans, soft and low, and it sets Steve’s nerves on fire. He backs Bucky toward the wall, lips trailing a fiery line along Bucky’s jaw and down his neck.

“Steve,” Bucky gasps, hips jerking as Steve bites down gently on the soft skin, liking the way it pinks up. “Not that this isn’t, like, absolutely incredible, but my family is downstairs and I would prefer that we have sex for the first time pretty much anywhere other than my childhood bedroom.”

Steve barks out a laugh, resting his forehead against Bucky’s shoulder for a moment before looking up. “Awfully confident about gettin’ some, huh Barnes?”

“Oh, please,” Bucky huffs, but he’s blushing again. Steve kisses his cheek gently, then backs up. “You started it.”

“I did,” Steve smirks, voice low and gravelly. He likes the way Bucky’s gaze zeroes in on his mouth as he continues, “And I have every intention of finishing it later if that’s what you want. But you’re right. We should get back to the party.”

Steve turns, smiling as Bucky’s strong fingers grip his bicep and drag him back.

“I said I didn’t want to have sex in here, Rogers,” Bucky chuckles as he pulls Steve flush against him. “Didn’t say I didn’t wanna make out a little more while we have some privacy.”

“So romantic,” Steve sighs, pretending to swoon as Bucky presses a kiss to his neck. “How could I possibly resist?”

“Would you shut up and kiss me, Rogers?” Bucky grumbles, but he’s grinning in a way that makes Steve’s heart beat a little too fast in his chest. “It’s Christmas for fuck’s sake.”

“Mhmm,” Steve murmurs against Bucky’s mouth, nipping his bottom lip gently. “And what a Merry Christmas it is.”

They have to call Becca up to fix Bucky’s braid before they can head back down to the party, but Steve thinks it’s totally worth the smug grin on her face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!


	18. You Look at Yourself, You’re an Elf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Looks like you made quite an impression, Jingle,” Sam chuckles, finishing off his beverage. He goes to toss the cup in the trash, and Steve jolts forward before he realizes how ridiculous he’s being and jerks back. 
> 
> “Oh my god-” Sam snickers. “Do you want to keep it, Steve?"
> 
>   **In which a barista starts writing quotes from the movie _Elf_ on Steve's coffee cups.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a ludicrous idea, shared it with a tumblr pal, and now you all get this. Hope you like it!!
> 
> The title's from a song called ["Elf's Lament"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gm3k7UR7knA) by Barenaked Ladies and Michael Bublé.

Steve’s shivering as he walks to Wilson’s Department Store for his first shift as one of Santa’s elves, despite the fact that he’s swathed in the warmest outerwear a struggling artist can afford. It’s the first day of December, and New York’s been graced with its first real cold snap with wind chills dipping below zero.

Steve doesn’t really mind the winter; he loves Christmas, enjoys warm baked good and beverages and isn’t opposed to snuggling up on the couch in a big, cozy sweater. But his tiny frame isn’t doing him any favors as the wind gusts past him, nearly toppling him. He needs a pick-me-up, and when he looks up, he sees that familiar green and white mermaid gazing down. It calls to him.

He pulls his cell phone from his pocket and dials Sam quickly.

“Well, hey there, Jingle,” Sam exclaims when he picks up, and Steve can hear the smug smile in the other man’s voice. “You ready for our first shift?”

“Can hardly contain my boundless enthusiasm, Jangle,” Steve grumbles as he walks into the Starbucks a couple blocks from the store, shuddering as warmth rolls through his body. “In all seriousness, remind me to thank your dad for takin’ me on as a seasonal employee this year. Stoppin’ for a cup of coffee, you want?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Sam replies. “You at Starbucks? What’s that sickly sweet one I like?”

“Caramel brulee latte,” Steve rolls his eyes. “I gotcha covered. See ya in a few.”

It’s past nine, so the early morning rush of people with real jobs has come and gone, and Steve only has to wait a few minutes before a pretty redhead is asking him what he’d like to drink.

“Tall caramel brulee latte with whip and a tall peppermint mocha, no whip,” Steve replies with a small smile, gratified when the young woman’s lips quirk upward.

“Your name?”

“Steve,” he answers. The redhead nods, jotting down his name on both and then placing the cups to her right.

“They’ll call your name when it’s ready. Have a great day.”

“Thanks,” Steve grins. “You too.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky spots the guy the second he walks in through the door, shivering a little as he chats with someone on the phone, and maybe his breath catches a little at the sight. The young man is bundled up, but he’s pretty short and clearly on the slim side. As he moves closer to the register, Bucky gets a good look at his eyes, a bright and beautiful blue.

Natasha, who’s working the register today, looks over at him immediately, eyebrows waggling suggestively. Bucky rolls his eyes and keeps pouring coffees and steaming milk for espresso drinks. So, Bucky has a type; so what? 

Natasha has to grab a baked good for someone ahead of the young man, and as she does, she leans over and hisses at Bucky, “You should write somethin’ cute on his cup.”

“On whose cup?” Bucky whispers back, batting his eyelashes as he grins.

“Just do it, you moron.”

Bucky chuckles, turning his attention back to the beverages so that he doesn’t burn himself. Or, horror of horrors, make a mistake and have to re-make something.

Nat points out the two cups that belong to the guy, who’s name is apparently Steve. Bucky smiles, thinking. The man’s hat, scarf and mittens all bear a red and green motif- Bucky thinks it’s little trees- so he must be into Christmas. The man’s sharp, pretty features come to mind as Bucky muses. Steve almost looks like-

Almost like an-

Bucky grabs a marker, scrawling a quick message as neatly as he can before he fixes up the drinks and calls out the man’s name. As he watches Steve walk out the door with his cups in hand, he hopes the guy gets the reference.

 

* * *

 

“Uh, Steve,” Sam’s smirking at Steve as the blond wiggles into a pair of bright green leggings and smoothes down his red tunic with gold trim, adjusting his hat so that it sits at a somewhat jaunty angle. “Did you notice that there’s somethin’ written on one of the cups?”

“They always write your name down, Sam,” Steve replies, closing his locker and settling onto the bench beside his friend so that they can enjoy the last few minutes of peace before their shift begins. His eyes narrow at the wide, knowing smile on his friend’s face. “What? What is it?”

Sam holds up his cup, and Steve leans in to read the spider-thin hand. It reads _You have such a pretty face, you should be on a Christmas card._ Steve can feel himself blushing, and curses the hot flush working it’s way down his neck. He looks at his name, but that’s in a thick, block print. So, not the redhead.

Steve tries desperately to recall the other person behind the register, but all he can remember is that it was a guy and that he’d had long, dark hair. That describes just about every male barista in the goddamn city.

“Looks like you made quite an impression, Jingle,” Sam chuckles, finishing off his beverage. He goes to toss the cup in the trash, and Steve jolts forward before he realizes how ridiculous he’s being and jerks back.

“Oh my god-” Sam snickers. “Do you want to keep it, Steve? I’d be happy to give you this empty cup with an _Elf_ -inspired pickup line written on it if you really want it.”

Steve grumbles that, no, he would _not_ like to keep it as he shoves past Sam out of the locker room.

Still, he can’t help but grin when he sees the cup, which Sam has thoughtfully rinsed out, sitting in his locker once they’ve finished their shift.

 

* * *

 

The next couple of times Steve goes to that Starbucks, he doesn’t get a message. It’s kind of a bummer. One, because he loves _Elf_. And two, because it’s kind of unusual for anyone to hit on him at all, much less through adorable little notes on his coffee cups.

So, naturally, the next time he sees the spider-thin hand on the cup, he can’t stop a pleases smile from stretching across his lips.

_It’s just nice to meet another human who shares my affinity for elf culture._

Steve barks out a laugh as he looks down. He’d run over during his break at the store, neglecting to change out of his costume. Below the elf quote, in even smaller writing, is the message _Those leggings really work for you_. There’s a quick doodle of a winking face there too.

Steve can feel his cheeks heating up as he stands on tiptoe to look at the people behind the counter. One of them is a tall, dark-haired man. The long strands are tied up in a messy bun, so Steve gets a solid glimpse at the man’s profile. He’s clearly gorgeous, as well as leaps and bounds out of Steve’s league.

More than anything, Steve wants to get a really good look at the guy, but he just doesn’t have time. Still, he leaves Starbucks with a spring in his step and a warmth blooming in his stomach.

 

* * *

 

Steve begins to visit the coffee shop every day on the way into work, and sometimes during his breaks, and every time, he gets a message written in that thin, somewhat sloppy handwriting. If he didn’t know better, he might think it was the redhead who usually works the register- her name tag reads Natasha- given the way she smirks at him. But she’s never the one making the drinks. Steve still has yet to get a really good visual of the man he thinks is behind the notes.

Steve grins wide one morning when he sees,  _It’s the world’s BEST cup of coffee_ with a little doodle of a steaming mug beside it.

He laughs out loud on two occasions, drawing a number of strange looks when he reads,  _So, good news, I saw a dog today,_ and then, a day later, _We elves try to stick to the four main food groups: candy, candy canes, candy corns and syrup._

He sighs and wonders what the man writing these messages is like as he reads,  _Treat every day like it’s Christmas,_ smiling softly at the little Christmas tree the guy has drawn. He wants desperately to get a chance to speak with him.

And then, one day, Steve reads,  _I just like to smile, smiling’s my favorite._ When he looks up, the brunet is staring right at him, a wide grin on his face as he waves at Steve. Steve waves back, too surprised to do anything else except smile in return.

One day, Steve thinks as he walks out the door. One day he’ll get up the courage to tell the brunet just how much he appreciates the little notes.

 

* * *

 

It takes every ounce of Bucky’s self-restraint to stay behind the counter as a tall man with short dark hair leans down and whispers something in Steve’s ear. Steve’s in his elf costume again- Bucky figures he must have a job over at the department store nearby- soft-looking blond bangs peeking out from under his hat, and he looks absolutely adorable as always.

Clearly this guy thinks so too, if the way Steve flushes and whirls on him is any indication. This isn’t the pleased flush Bucky’s seen on Steve’s cheeks as he reads the little notes Bucky leaves him. Bucky knows because the blond’s shoulders are taut in a way he's never seen before and his hands are balled into fists.

The dark-haired man is smiling down as his eyes rake down Steve’s body, and Bucky’s skin is crawling as he watches. There’s a metallic taste in his mouth, and with a start Bucky realizes he’s bitten the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood.

Steve’s speaking to the man, but his voice is low enough that he’s not causing a scene. Bucky wishes he would; wishes with all his might for Steve to give him a reason to toss the son of a bitch bothering him out on his ass.

The guy does that on his own a moment later, grabbing Steve’s arm and leering down at the blond.

“Get your fuckin’ hands off me!” is ringing out through the store as Bucky leaps over the counter and strides quickly toward the two of them.

“Problem here, sir?” Bucky asks, reaching out to grab the dark-haired man’s arm. Steve’s eyes widen as they meet Bucky’s, and it’s like time stands still for a moment. Bucky’s jerked back into the here and now as the other man shoves him back.

“Just tryin’ to pay the kid a compliment,” the guy sneers, and Bucky wants to haul off and punch this fucker in the mouth, but he knows that’ll just get him fired. So he takes a deep breath and plasters a tight smile to his face.

“I’m gonna need to ask you to leave, sir,” Bucky replies. “Or we’ll have to call the police. We take harassment seriously.”

For a moment, Bucky doesn’t think the man’s going to leave. He looks positively murderous, but like hell is Bucky going to stand for this bullshit. Fortunately, the guy just grumbles something about self-important baristas and stalks out.

“You all right?” Bucky asks softly, gazing down at Steve. He’s even prettier up close, and Bucky longs to know what those plush pink lips would feel like against his own.

“Yeah,” Steve wheezes, reaching into his jacket pocket, then taking a few puffs from his inhaler. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Good,” Bucky nods. “I should, uh, get back.”

“When do you get off?” Steve asks, and Bucky nearly laughs at the surprise he sees on the other man’s face.

“Seven,” Bucky replies, biting his lip as he grins. “Why?”

“Buy ya a cup of coffee?” Steve grins shyly, looking up at Bucky through long, dark lashes in a way that has his heart beating double time in his chest. “To say thanks and all?”

“Yeah,” Bucky replies. “Yeah, I think that’d be nice.”

Bucky can’t help but smile a few minutes later as Steve chuckles over his latest note- _He’s an angry elf-_ waving goodbye and looking forward to the end of his shift even more than he usually does.

 

* * *

 

Steve’s surprised to see the brunet standing outside of Starbucks a little after seven, two cups in hand. He grins when he notices Steve, walking toward him quickly.

“Hey,” the guy’s grin is wide and infectious, and Steve smiles as he takes the cup he’s been offered. “Hope the rest of your day wasn’t as eventful as your coffee break. My name’s Bucky, by the way. Bucky Barnes.”

“Steve Rogers,” Steve replies, taking a grateful sip of his hot beverage and humming. “Nice to officially meet you. I’ve wanted to for a while now.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asks, and it’s a little hard to tell since it’s dark out, but Steve thinks Bucky might be blushing.

“Yeah,” Steve chuckles, reaching up and shoving Bucky’s shoulder gently. “Your _Elf_ notes are always a bright spot in my day.”

“Good,” Bucky exhales a laugh, and Steve’s sort of surprised by the breathy quality of his voice. It’s almost like Bucky’s _nervous_. “Because, uh, I think you’re really beautiful and I feel really warm when I’m around you and my tongue swells up. So, do you wanna go eat food?”

“Bucky,” Steve grins, gazing up into steely eyes. “Are you asking me out with an _Elf_ quote?”

“Depends,” Bucky smirks. “Is it working?”

“Yes,” Steve chuckles, grabbing Bucky’s hand and tugging him down the street. “Yes it is. C’mon, I know just the place.”

Steve feels warmer than he has in weeks as Bucky’s fingers entangle with his, squeezing gently.

"What does this cup say?" Steve asks, glancing up, heart in his throat at the smile on Bucky's face. God, but he's  _gorgeous._

Bucky chuckles, tightening his grip on Steve and pulling him close. "It says 'You look miraculous.'"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!


	19. As We Dream By The Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, as you may recall, Steven, I celebrate Yule,” Bucky grins, shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth and chewing noisily. “And I have this half log that I use as a base for candles, and that represents the Yule log since it would be irresponsible to burn an actual log for twelve days, which is how long my family always celebrates for.”
> 
> Bucky pauses, looking at Steve expectantly, so Steve questions, “Okay?”
> 
> “Well, I was thinkin’, uh, maybe the first night of Yule, we could do, like, an, uh, actual log in the fireplace.”
> 
> **In which Bucky has a holiday request.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, someone asked me if I could do a pagan AU and this is my attempt. I was raised Catholic, so if anybody notices any mistakes, please let me know and I'll be more than happy to fix them! Hope you guys like it!
> 
> The title of this fic is from the song "Winter Wonderland." My two favorite versions of this one are by [Ella Fitzgerald](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gnskhYy15mE) and [the Eurythmics](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xVLeW9UmjE).

“So, hey,” Bucky slides into the kitchen on socked feet, grinning from ear to ear when Steve laughs as he smacks into their kitchen table. “Shut up, Rogers, that was a cool as heck entrance and you wish you could pull off my effortless vibe.”

“Sure,” Steve snickers, eyeing his roommate appreciatively. “That’s it.”

Bucky looks fantastic as always, even in his pajamas. Loose-fitting sweats hang low on his slim hips, and a tight tank, accentuates his leanly muscled torso and arms covered in vibrant tattoos. His long, dark hair is braided back away from his face, accentuating his sharp cheekbones dusted with a light layer of stubble.

When Steve had posted an ad for a roommate on Craigslist, he’d been sort of startled by the tall, inked brunet. But over the last six or seven months, Steve had grown to consider Bucky one of his closest friends.

And, okay, _maybe_ he’d developed a little crush.

Or, you know. A huge crush.

“Whatever,” Bucky waves a hand dismissively, his voice snapping Steve out of his thoughts as he plops into a chair and pours himself a bowl of cereal. “Listen, I need to talk to you about somethin’. If I burn a log in here, is your asthma gonna act up?”

“Uh,” Steve blinks, taking a quick sip of coffee as he thinks. His asthma hasn’t been genuinely awful since he was in high school - back before the drug trial that had made it much easier for him to do things like live - but the apartment is on the small side. “Long as we open a window and I don’t sit too close to it, I should be all right. Why?”

“Well, as you may recall, Steven, I celebrate Yule,” Bucky grins, shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth and chewing noisily. “And I have this half log that I use as a base for candles, and that represents the Yule log since it would be irresponsible to burn an actual log for twelve days, which is how long my family always celebrates for."

Bucky pauses, looking at Steve expectantly, so Steve questions, “Okay?”

“Well, I was thinkin’, uh, maybe the first night of Yule, we could do, like, an, uh, actual log in the fireplace,” Bucky chatters, stumbling over his words a little in his excitement. “You know, nice warm fire, I’ll make wassail-”

“Wassail?” Steve interrupts, brow furrowing as Bucky chuckles.

“It’s like a mulled cider, you’ll like it, I swear,” Bucky grins. “Please say yes? My ma already got me the log as a gift and it’d be real cool to show a friend such a nice family tradition.”

“Yeah,” Steve nods, loving the way Bucky beams at him from across the table. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Thanks, Steve!” Bucky exclaims, grabbing the blond’s hand and squeezing gently before he stands. “I gotta get ready for work, but I’ll see ya later for the Yule log, all right?”

Bucky’s out of the room before Steve can say goodbye or wish him a good day, but he can’t help smiling at the thought of curling up with his friend in front of a warm fire later tonight.

 

* * *

 

Steve’s eyes are on Bucky later that night as the brunet prepares the log for lighting. The makeshift Yule log with candles of white, red and green to honor the season is already flaming merrily as he douses the log his mother had given him in ale and flour. He begins decorating it with seasonal greenery, and smile when he hears Steve clear his throat.

“So, what exactly is Yule?” Steve asks, not unkindly. Bucky glances over his shoulder as he laughs, catching the light blush dusting Steve cheeks. It is, Bucky thinks, adorable. But then, everything about his short, wiry roommate is adorable as far as Bucky’s concerned. “I mean, I know the Yule log can be a Christmas thing too.”

“It’s part of Christian tradition, yeah,” Bucky agrees, standing once he’s finished decorating the log. “Yule’s the time of the year when the darker half of the year ends, and the lighter half begins. After the solstice, the days stay light just a little longer. The Solstice night is the longest night of the year, and the fire’s to celebrate the rebirth of the light half of the year once that night ends. There's a lot of different ways to celebrate, though. This is just part of how we always did it in my family.”

“Oh,” Steve’s smile is soft and gentle, and Bucky wants nothing more than to kiss it from his lips. “That’s really nice.”

“Yeah, man,” Bucky chuckles. “The winter’s a rough time. So we light warm fires, drink warm cider, eat a bunch of food and give each other presents to get through it. Tale as old as time.”

“True as it can be,” Steve warbles, and Bucky laughs at the off-key notes.

“C’mon, weirdo,” Bucky grins. “Come help me light it. Better doin’ it with somebody.”

Steve’s by his side quickly and Bucky holds out a long lighter.

“Now, because it’s our first log, we can light it like this,” Bucky explains. “But we gotta save a piece of this one so that we can use it to light our log the right way next year.”

“Next year?” Steve smiles, and Bucky’s stomach does what feels like a backflip at the hope in his big blue eyes.

“Yeah, Stevie,” Bucky replies, voice soft and raspy. He’s suddenly very aware of how close Steve’s body is to his, the warmth of the other man, the slightly spicy scent he exudes. God, but Bucky _wants_. “If, uh, if you wanna do this next year.”

“I can’t think of anything I’d like more,” Steve replies, and Bucky doesn’t miss the slightly breathless quality of his friend’s answer. Steve’s pupils are a little blown, his soft, pink lips parted, and for the first time since he’s moved in, Bucky dares to let himself hope that Steve wants too.

Steve’s hand closes over Bucky’s and they push the button that produces a small, vibrant flame. They reach, waiting for the log to catch before pulling away.

"I am grateful for that which I have," Bucky bows his head and speaks softly, the words his mother taught him coming easily as he gives thanks for his blessings. "I am not sorrowful for that which I do not. I have more than others, less than some, but regardless, I am blessed with what is mine."

Steve never removes his hand. Bucky actually feels his friend's grip tighten.

“So,” Bucky breathes as Steve tilts his head up to look at him. “I would kind of like to kiss you right now if you’re on board with that. But we should put the lighter down first.”

Steve barks out a laugh, snagging the lighter and setting it on the mantelpiece before smirking up at Bucky, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“I’m on board with that,” Steve replies, and Bucky doesn’t waste another moment. His hand snakes around Steve’s neck, cradling the back of his head as Bucky leans down to capture his lips. Steve’s mouth is soft and warm and pliant against Bucky’s own, and he can’t help smiling as the blond sighs into the kiss.

Bucky shifts as Steve’s arms wrap around his waist, letting the smaller man pull him close. They don’t rush, letting their lips move languidly as they explore. Steve pulls back first, and Bucky’s thrilled to see a shy smile on his friend’s face.

“That was-” Steve breathes, resting his head against Bucky’s chest. Bucky chuckles, planting a kiss to the top of Steve’s head.

“Yeah,” Bucky replies. “Agreed. C’mon. I have hot cider to pour and then you and me are gonna snuggle in front of this fire. You know, if you’re on board with that.”

Steve’s laugh is soft, yet strong, and Bucky wants nothing more than to hear it every day for the rest of his life. “I’m on board with that, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	20. Hurry Christmas, Hurry Fast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You fuck,” Bucky states matter-of-factly. “You booby-trapped the goddamn presents.”
> 
> Steve shakes his head, smiling incredulously. “Because you do this every fuckin’ year. I’m savin’ you from yourself.”
> 
>  
> 
> **In which Bucky pays for his impatience.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suuuuuper short one because the days are just getting busier. Also, there's a possibility this will extend slightly past Christmas depending on how busy the next couple of days end up being, so I hope nobody minds that. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you like this one! The title is from ["The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don't Be Late)."](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wdN_8OlJGs0) Do I sing this to my mom as soon as stores start putting out Christmas decorations? Maybe definitely yes.

“Whatcha got there, Stevie?” Bucky grins as his boyfriend walks through the door of their home, arms laden with bags and boxes. The blond glares over the purchases, a small smirk teasing at the corner of his lips.

“None of your business until Christmas morning, you sneak,” Steve snaps, but Bucky can tell the other man is amused. “And don’t even try to peek. You’ve managed to ruin the last three Christmases for yourself, and I’m not letting you do it again.”

“They weren’t _ruined_ ,” Bucky huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. Steve snorts, and Bucky supposes he’s got good reason. He does have something of a flair for the melodramatic

“You sulked all Christmas day last year because you already knew I was getting you an iPad you weirdo,” Steve laughs as he walks down the hallway. “You wouldn’t have known that if you would have just respected the sanctity of my gift-hiding spot.”

“Right, because the guest room closet isn’t the most obvious place to hide gifts,” Bucky rolls his eyes as he shouts back his reply. “Whatever, Stevie. I swear I won’t go lookin’ for my gifts this year. Scout’s honor.”

And if Bucky crosses his fingers as he makes the promise? Well, he was a pretty lousy Boy Scout.

 

* * *

 

Bucky makes it three whole days before he begins searching their house for the presents. It’s early yet, so Steve is slumbering peacefully in their bed, none the wiser to Bucky’s treachery.

Steve’s wised up this year; the gifts aren’t in any of his usual hiding places. He checks the guest closet first, but there’s nothing. He searches the nooks and crannies of the closet in their entrance hall, but that’s a no-go too. A scan of their kitchen pantry turns up zilch, and when Bucky ventures into their creepy, cobwebbed crawl space, he finds nada. He exits, sneezing and cursing quietly.

“God damn it, Steve,” Bucky swears, an admiring smile on his face as he sweeps the house top to bottom and finds not one blessed present. 

There’s only one place left that Bucky hasn’t checked, but there’s no _way_ Steve would do something so painfully obvious…

But as Bucky pushes past the clothes in their bedroom closet (all Steve’s aside from a couple of suits Bucky almost never wears), he gasps with delight, looking back over his shoulder to make sure that Steve's chest is still rising and falling slowly. There in left hand corner are the bags and wrapped boxes Steve had carted into the house the other day, just waiting for someone to tear into them. Bucky knows Steve’s going to kill him for this, but he just can’t resist…

As Bucky reaches for the gifts, his arm catches on something that feels an awful lot like fishing wire, and before he really has any time to react or process what the fuck a taut strand of wire is doing near the bottom of their closet, an alarm is blaring directly in his face and he's stumbling backward. Then something’s falling on him, knocking him to the ground with a grunt. Bucky realizes with a start that it’s an old fishing net- a fucking _heavy_ fishing net- and proceeds to flail around in an attempt to free himself. This backfires stupendously, as the brunet simply manages to entangle himself further.

When Bucky glances up, Steve is sitting upright, short blond hair sleep-mussed, bleary blue eyes narrowed as he tries valiantly not to laugh at Bucky writhing around on their bedroom floor.

“You fuck,” Bucky states matter-of-factly. “You booby-trapped the goddamn presents.”

Steve shakes his head, smiling incredulously. “Because you do this every fuckin’ year. I’m savin’ you from yourself.”

“Do me a favor and save me from this netting, will ya?” Bucky snaps, unable to keep a smile from his face as Steve bursts out laughing. The blond’s face is flushed with amusement, and tears leak from his eyes as he holds his stomach. “Oh, yeah, this is so fuckin’ funny, Steve. C’mon, isn’t it bad enough that I don’t get to look at my presents?”

“You’re incorrigible,” Steve snickers, rolling out of bed and peeling the net off of Bucky. Steve leans down and fiddles with something in the closet until the alarm falls blissfully silent, then tugs Bucky toward the bed. “Honestly, you just can’t be trusted. ‘M gonna have to tie you to the damn bed until Christmas.”

“Mmmm,” Bucky hums as he wraps himself around Steve as the two of them fall into bed, kissing and nipping at the blond’s jaw line. “I could get on board with that present protection plan.”

“Incorrigible,” Steve repeats, laughing as Bucky pulls him into a lazy kiss. 

"'M sorry, Steve," Bucky huffs, peering up at his boyfriend apologetically. "I just get excited is all, ya know? I just want Christmas to hurry up and get here so I can see how you've outdone yourself this year."

"You flatterer," Steve grins, carding gentle fingers through Bucky's dark hair. "You only have like a week to go. You think you can tough it out or should I leave the alarm and reset the netting."

Bucky taps his chin in an exaggerated fashion, screwing up his face as though the question merits deep thought. Finally, he sighs and admits, "Maybe you oughta leave the traps."

"Maybe I should," Steve chuckles, straddling Bucky's hips as he pins the brunet's wrists above his head. "I think maybe I oughta teach you a lesson, too, sweetheart. Bad boys who break the rules sometimes need to be punished."

"Is that right?" Bucky asks, breath catching in his throat as Steve bites down gently on his bottom lip. "Well, then, by all means, doll. You better get started if I'm gonna be reformed by Christmas." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!


	21. And Then One Day Everything Changed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, Nat,” Bucky pulls his hat back on, then dons his gloves. “I’m sure you understand that I’m not gonna let my best friend of over twenty years spend Christmas on his own.”
> 
> “I’d be angry with you if you stayed,” Natasha replies, a small smirk tugging at the corners of her lips, as she continues, “Might be about time for you to admit you see him as more than your friend, though.”
> 
> Bucky starts, regarding his friend with undisguised surprise, then shrugs. 
> 
> “Might be, at that.”
> 
> **In which Steve is sick on Christmas.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So very sorry for the delay on this. I ended up catching some kind of bug and have been sick since Christmas Eve. Much as I wanted to update, I was just way too exhausted to manage it, and I didn't want to post garbage just to post, you know? Anyway, something good came of it, because my dumb cold/flu/whatever inspired this lil fic. Hope you all enjoy it! I'm still a little fuzzy, so apologies if it's so-so. I just needed some cozy fluff today :)
> 
> Song title is from a lyric in Kelly Clarkson's ["Underneath The Tree."](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YfF10ow4YEo)

“Steve here yet?” Bucky asks with a wide grin as he pulls off his red stocking cap, shaking out his long, dark hair. Natasha’s eyebrows shoot toward her hairline, green eyes wide, and Bucky knows immediately that something’s up.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asks, gripping Natasha’s shoulder as her gaze drops to the floor. “C’mon, spill.”

Natasha sighs, a soft smile lighting up her pretty features. “Steve told me not to tell you, but he’s sitting out Christmas dinner. He’s sick, and he knew if he told you, you’d bail to hang out with him. He didn’t want you missing out our tradition.”

Bucky laughs, releasing his grip on the redhead. Sure, their ragtag group of friends has been doing Christmas dinner together for a couple of years now - those of them without family, anyway - but that pales in comparison to the oldest tradition Bucky knows, which is being there for Steve. And even though Steve’s far, far healthier than he used to be, Bucky knows a nasty cold or flu can still knock his friend on his ass.

“Well, Nat,” Bucky pulls his hat back on, then dons his gloves. “I’m sure you understand that I’m not gonna let my best friend of over twenty years spend Christmas on his own.”

“I’d be angry with you if you stayed,” Natasha replies, a small smirk tugging at the corners of her lips, as she continues, “Might be about time for you to admit you see him as more than your friend, though.”

Bucky starts, regarding his friend with undisguised surprise, then shrugs.

“Might be, at that.”

 

* * *

 

Steve wakes to the sound of pounding on his apartment door and groans as he rolls off the couch. Partly because he doesn’t want to move, and partly because he knows _exactly_ what’s waiting for him on the other side.

And, sure enough, when Steve swings open the door, Bucky’s there with a big smile on his face and a large paper bag in his hand.

“Merry Christmas, Stevie,” Bucky grins, pushing past the blond and bustling toward the kitchen with purpose. “I know ya didn’t want me missin’ out on Christmas dinner, but you had to know I wasn’t gonna stick around knowin’ you were here by yourself.”

“As I think I’ve told you about a million times, Buck, I can take care of myself,” Steve sighs, shuffling along after his friend and slumping into a chair. “I can get by on my own.”

“And, as I think I always respond, I’d like to remind you that you don’t have to,” Bucky’s grinning, but his eyes are serious and filled with concern. Steve ducks his head, trying to ignore the butterflies swirling in his chest because of that intense gaze.

Steve knows Bucky loves him dearly, knows he’s lucky to have a friend as steadfast and loyal as Bucky’s been since they were five, but there’s a bittersweetness to that knowledge. Because Steve also knows that Bucky will probably never love Steve in the way that Steve loves him.

And why should he? Steve has no doubt that Bucky still sees the thin, sickly boy Steve used to be when Bucky looks at him. Still sees the scrappy little guy with a big mouth that he had to protect until Steve had finally qualified for an experimental drug trial that had allowed him to really breathe and live a grow. Even after Steve shot up like a weed and put on the muscle, Bucky kept acting like his protector. And while Steve appreciates that more than he can put into words, he wants so much for Bucky to see him as something more.

“Hey,” Bucky’s soft voice draws Steve from his thoughts, and when he looks up, Bucky’s kind gray eyes are narrowed, his brow furrowed with concern. “You all right, pal?”

“I’m fine, Buck,” Steve lies with a weak smile. “Just tired and feverish. Now, why don’t you dish out the chicken noodle soup that I know is in that bag so that we can curl up and watch a movie, huh?”

Bucky doesn’t look convinced, but his lips twitch upward in a quick smile and he nods.

 

* * *

 

Bucky pulls Steve close when he notices his friend is shivering once they’ve finished their Christmas dinner. Steve mumbles something about mother hens, but Bucky doesn’t miss the pleased flush on Steve’s cheeks.

Steve curls in on himself when he’s sick, Bucky notes, making his long, lean body as compact as possible, and Bucky’s heart aches with the memory of a smaller Steve tucked against him. He tangles a hand in Steve’s short hair, massaging his friend’s scalp gently and reveling in the low hum that spills from Steve’s throat as the blond rests his head on Bucky's shoulder.

“That feels really nice,” Steve whispers, and Bucky nearly shudders at the feeling of the other man’s warm breath on his neck. “I’m, um, I’m sorry you’re missin’ out on a real Christmas because of me.”

“Stevie,” Bucky huffs out a laugh, shifting so that they’re eye to eye and grabbing Steve’s chin so that he can’t look away. “Stop it. You should know damn well by now that it ain’t a real Christmas for me without you, all right? I’m here because I want to be here. I always wanna be with you, Steve.”

“Buck,” Steve breathes, and Bucky’s transfixed by the blue of his eyes, the way those long, dark lashes flutter, the way those pink, plush lips part. “You don’t have to say-”

“I know I don’t,” Bucky whispers, moving his hand to cup Steve’s face running a gentle thumb across his cheekbone. Bucky notes the slight catch in Steve’s breath, the way his cheeks flush further with color, and god, maybe he _should_ just tell Steve how he feels. “And you know I don’t say stuff I don’t mean, Steve. I’m here because you mean more to me than anybody else, pal.”

“I do?” Steve asks, and Bucky loves the smiles that breaks across his friend’s face, so warm and vulnerable and open.

“You know you do,” Bucky grins, nuzzling his nose against Steve’s. “And I’m gonna tell you somethin’ else, Steve, because I think you should know and because I really hope you feel the same.”

“Feel the-” Steve pauses, jerking back. Those sapphire eyes of his are wide and full of hope. “Buck?”

“I love you,” Bucky sighs, resting his forehead against Steve’s own. “And not like as a friend, although that’s there too. I’m in love with you, Steve. I have been for a while, and I just. I didn’t know how to tell you. I wasn’t sure if-”

Steve’s lips silence Bucky, just a whisper against his own before they’re gone. When Bucky opens his eyes - he hadn’t realized he’d closed them - Steve is beaming at him.

“I love you too.”

“That is-” Bucky sighs out a soft moan as Steve’s hands tangle in his hair. “That is very good to know.”

“I’d like to kiss you more,” Steve grins, bumping their noses together before pulling back. “But I’d hate to get you sick, Buck.”

“Been hangin’ around your illness-prone ass for years, Rogers,” Bucky chuckles, tugging Steve forward until their lips are just brushing. “I think I might be able to handle a couple of kisses, all right?”

“If you say so,” Steve moves forward, and Bucky begins to learn how much more he likes Steve’s smile when he can feel it against his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!


End file.
